Black Butler Novel: His Butler, Cold Vengeance
by Tower of Babel
Summary: A civil war is brewing in Reaperdum and the First Prime must employ Sebastian Michaelis's twin boys to help him. Meanwhile, insideous forces are moving against the Phantomhive's and the final battle against Bryon Kelvin is about to begin. However, with a new cult rising in England and a cryptic "death" message sent to Lukas, Ciel and Sebastan have their hands full! HBOFAD Sequel.
1. Prologue

_We are not now that strength which in the old days_  
_Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,_  
_One equal-temper of heroic hearts,_  
_Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will_  
_To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield._

Alfred Lord Tennyson

**"****Ulysses" (1842)**

* * *

_**PROLOGUE**_

The crystal block measuring ten-by-ten centimeters on the crystalline designed desk chimed with a soft sounding pleasant tone, followed by a multi-colored swirling kaleidoscope display within it - but it was not answered. It had been "ringing off the hook" as human's would say about their telephones. To answer it all he would need to do was swipe a hand over the top and speak into it for two-way communication, or, if he wanted a face-to-face communication, he could authorize a projection to appear. Unlike human telephones, he couldn't just yank out the cord to stop it. It was cordless. Although he did have the urge once or twice to toss it out the nearest open window.

Altima signed. He, the newly appointed First Prime of the High Council, feared a civil war was slowly approaching within _Reaperdum_ and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His office had become inundated with reports of insurrection by the former members of the High Council and their cohorts ever since he took office and appointed his new staff. Many people didn't like the change.

Members of the old High Council - who had friends in secret factions, much like an underworld criminal sect - were fuming about the charges of crime and corruption demanding their reinstatement saying the charges was false and accusing Altima of usurping the council as he had once been a Fallen Reaper and this was his revenge. They were referring to the whole affair much like what happened in Ancient Rome and calling him a dictator of sorts even within his short time in office; the old council members were calling him the new Julius Caesar because Caesar had abolished the Senate and made himself sole ruler, fearing the senate's opposition to his personal view of doing things.

Altima knew this was not true and there was no senate, only a High Council of seven members, who met on a monthly bases or for issues of great importance to discuss strategy and rule of law.

But rumor and public opinion appeared to have a higher voice than the High Council. People believed what they wanted, especially if they were involved in illicit gain and didn't want their comfortable lives altered. And even though Altima had appointed new people to the High Council until an official election could be held, three of them had already resigned due to threat of harm and injury. This further enforced just how much corruption there was in the old council and with the factions that supported them.

He did have two deep loyalists on his side, however. Two Reapers that he had absolute trust in. Reapers of such utter allegiance and devotion, protecting him day and night, that he appointed them captains of his new _Royal Reaper Guard - _a guardmanship solely to protect the First Prime - despite their true lineage of being a quarter-demon. This decision seemed to go against him - allowing two demons to live in _Reaperdum_. Demons and Reapers hated each other - _The Reaper/Demon War_ many millennia ago could still be remembered by most and many had perished on either side. So having two demons as captainsof his _Royal Reaper Guard _seemed like blasphemy to most and catered to an overall animosity. But he still had many supporters.

Those who wished to transfer from being_ Grim Reapers _to the _Royal Reaper Guard _were brought forth. But some Reapers turned against the new order. It was obvious now, some of them had been on the take in the shadows under the old regime and were now showing their true loyalty.

The old council had a great to deal answer for and now the cracks in the government of the old order were starting to show and grow and crumble all around Altima. It almost appeared that there had been _more_ order under the old regime, but it was a corrupt order and it had to be expunged. Too many of Altima's comrades had been stripped of their Reaper status and banished to become Fallen Reapers because of false charges brought against them. Once these Reapers were brought back into the fold with help from Reaper X, they now stood with Altima in the civil war that Altima knew was brewing in _Reaperdum_.

No violence had occurred yet, only a war of words so far. But Altima knew it would only take one spark to light a fire, one person to throw the first stone to begin the fighting - and he didn't want this. Calls for Altima to resign were demanded daily and the media reported on the growing unrest in _Reaperdum_. This was not what Altima wanted, but he knew sometimes the filth of a civilization must first be cleansed away for its shine to come through again. He also knew neither side wanted a war, because it would be bloody.

All but two of the Reaper X teams had been recalled - those Reapers appointed to round up Fallen Reapers and remove their powers, powers they had to possess human bodies despite exiled to a disembodied existence for their crimes as others had done before wreaking havoc in the Human World - and were asked to stand by Altima, reallocated to his _Royal Reaper Guard_, under the command of his two captains- Braydon and Brandon Smythe. They were twin Reapers, half-human, quarter demon, and sons of a very power demon, who now stood as butler to the human boy under a Faustian covenant. Altima had originally asked the boys to become _Grim Reapers_ years prior because he thought they had the right deposition and skills for it, and they did. And they were strictly loyal to Altima.

Altima, in a past life, possessed a human boy named Bryan, who later became the man servant to the Smythe family, whom a young demon named Damascus married into. Braydon and Brandon were born to Damascus, this demon and a human woman. While they were quarter demon, their father half demon, half human, they did not possess the bloodlust of their father. Their father had a great deal of discipline to hold off his own bloodlust for a time after years of practice. But the boys still had this thirst for blood, instinct was irrefutable - a person can not deny who they are. But it had been overcome with a fruit that grew in _Reaperdum_ called Ambrosia. While Ambrosia to humans is an aphrodisiac for love, to Braydon and Brandon, it worked and hindered their need for human blood and the intake for soul energy.

In a sense, to Braydon and Brandon, their loyalty to him also stemmed to that of a family member. They had known each other for quite some time, grew up with Altima, as Bryan he was their manservant and babysitter, he was also like an uncle and in fact they called him such. After Bryan was killed by their younger brother Decco - a demon whose bloodlust was boundless, and who one point had gathered an army to usurp the king of demons, Lucifer himself, before he died, killed by his father because he was too dangerous - Altima emerged and was later asked to take care of the boys, educate them, because Damascus, their father, could not. Altima accepted the job. And that was over 200 years ago.

Altima's office chambers was luxurious in his abundance. Crystal adorned almost every wall with its transparent windows looking out over all of _Reaperdum_ in a perfect rotunda. The windows were tinted and black if you looked in, but clear when looking out. He enjoyed looking out upon _Reaperdum_. It brought Altima a sense of joy that in nearly 10,000 years since he was banished from _Reaperdum_, with speaking out against the council and became a Fallen Reaper, that nothing much had changed.

Tall buildings of glass and marble stood high into the sky dazzled with sparkling adornment the entire landscape, glazed and reflecting by the multi-faceted blue hue of the sky. There were also parks and glass lands. Pretty much what someone would find in the Human World, _Reaperdum_ also had it…but more advanced. In the distance, he could see the large campus of _Reaperdum_ University or Reaper U to most, with its multitude of buildings housing every facet of education for up-and-coming _Grim Reapers_, where all the new recruits were trained before they were sent on their way for a long service in the _Grim Reapers_. After a certain time, perhaps 10,000 years or so, some developed other ambitions and entered into politics. Every politician in _Reaperdum_ at one point honed their craft as a _Grim Reaper_. And even some, like the members of old High Council, had even bigger ambitions.

_Reaperdum_ also had a vast network of frequency communication - signals that carried wavelengths through the air instantaneously. No cords, no annoying tapping from devices humans called _telegrams_, and no wasteful paper for notes or signatures called _Telegraph_. Everything was done by highly advanced light beam and wavelength. If a person wished to speak with another person, he or she merely waved a hand in the air and a small viewer box generated by light frequency appeared before them and then they could speak that someone face-to-face, no time lag either.

As he stared out one of the open faced windows, he saw Reapers carrying on with their daily tasks, some using "flying machines" called _Speeders_ to move around to race through the skies quickly. Most Reapers had the ability to teleport from place to place, but some preferred other conventional and conservative means - and they were fun too. Humans were just now discovering their technology with the Industrial Age using machines to better their lives to construct buildings and other things. But Altima knew it would be some time before humans built machines that flew through the air and even then, he knew, further time to perfect them where death was not a certainty from carelessness with highly combustible substances.

Braydon and Brandon stood on the other side of Altima's desk dressed in their RRG dark blood red uniforms holding folders. Their jackets were double buttoned with a silver strap running diagonal from their left shoulder and behind their back. They were Reapers, they were quarter-demons, but when Altima was appointed First Prime he also implemented new prodicals that didn't sit well with some and appointed a guardsmenship to protect the office of the First Prime. Braydon and Brandon were not the best suited for the position, but they did exhibit a hidden militaristic and leadership axel that when trained as Reapers came shining through. Moreover, albeit they were still young when it came to Reaper experience and age requirement, Altima trusted the boys implicitly despite their demon heritage. A man like the First Prime of the High Council needed people around him that he could trust.

On some of the walls were "mist monitors" - projection floating screens - that showed media coverage and reports from the civil unrest in _Reaperdum_, which were silent for the moment but still broadcasting. He had had hoped overturning the old High Council would bring peace. Unfortunately it did the opposite and if he resigned as called upon to do - he had once been a Fallen Reaper and under the Criminal Reaper Code, no criminal is allowed to hold office, his so-called "crime" was being outspoken about the High Council's illicit affairs and how they conducted themselves, for which his allegations turned out to be true, his record being expunged - it would not help matters. The damage had been done.

"Report please," he asked, his hands clasped behind his back.

Brandon looked at Braydon with a grim expression, then turned back to Altima. Altima could see a reflection of their worried faces in the transparent glass. "Not good news, Uncle," Brandon said. "Three more Reapers have _switched sides_ and the Infinity Party is still demanding your resignation."

The "Infinity Party", those who opposed to Altima. Their motto: _An Infinity of Peace in an Infinite Time._ Fitting because for Reapers _were_ infinite. The group was formed by its mysterious leader, much like a cult. This mysterious leader had never shown his face, but he was aggressive in his ideals and always used a proxy to state them. Critics called him a coward that he had never been seen, others followed him without fault - his words enchanting enough to bring validity in an uncertain time in _Reaperdum_. Even though he had never shown his face, his words were enough to bring fellowship to those vulnerable and susceptible to them, especially those who strongly opposed Altima's new position.

"They feel that with your new appointment that you caused this unrest," Braydon said, but he shook his head. "I don't believe this Uncle. This _person_ behind the Infinity Party is _Reaperdum_'s true enemy."

"They can claim anything they wish," Altima said. "Nothing will change the fact that with the introduction of the Infinity Party, _Reaperdum_ is in a state of political unrest regardless of my new position."

"We disagree with their assessment of the situation," Brandon said. "And not just because we are _family_. From a sociological and political standpoint, you have more positive support and clout then this _person_ in the Infinity Party. It is only this group and a few selected factions that see you as a threat."

Altima was taken aback for a moment, he turned around. "A threat? A threat to whom?" But he put up a hand before either the twins could answer. "Never mind. A threat to the old regime, the corruption they stood for. I suppose the corruption was rooted much deeper than I originally surmised. I thought Reapers were neutral, I assumed wrong. Why are so many taking the Infinity Party's side?"

The twins looked at each other, as if they had an answer but didn't wish to share it, as if it would upset him. Most political leader aids did so, kept things to themselves so it would not upset their leader.

"You are here to protect me, I know this," Altima said. "But if I need to know something, I need to know it to keep abreast on my _enemies_. Your expressions of grim are obvious."

Brandon slumped is shoulders, abasing his eyes from Altima. "We are embarrassed that we can not find any information on the leader of the Infinity Party," he said. "We are sorry."

"No need to apologize," Altima said with a smile. "I know your new roles as captains of my newly established _Royal Reaper Guard _are new and it will take time for information to come your way."

"This _leader_ claims what he is doing is for the good of _Reaperdum_ and sees you 'as a disease to the body', his words," Braydon said. "He is whispering in Reaper's ears and convincing them to join him, that he will save _Reaperdum_ from a tyranny greater than the great war many millennia ago."

Altima looked reflective for a moment. "Yes, that was a very terrible war. It lasted many millennia, and to an extent it is still going on. Many of my friends died. I was a mere soldier at the time, but I learned later, secretly, that had been nefariously planned by the old High Council for political gain. You see, the _Reaperdum_ was in an era of peace. And an envoy from the High Council visited Hell with a gift. Every 1,000 years, the _Reaperdum_ allocated a certain amount of energy to give to Morning Star, Lucifer, to continue the peace between our two worlds. But someone stole the gift and Morning Star accused the High Council of reneging on a deal that appeared to have been established since the dawn of time - history lost on who made this deal. A world of words then erupted, and then something derogatory was said that sparked a 1,000 year war between Hell and _Reaperdum_ many, many thousands of years ago."

"What happened to this gift of energy?" Braydon asked.

"No one knows, not even to this day. But rumors were abound that the High Council kept it and consumed it themselves, because it was of such rich and pure energy given freely by all Reapers and purified - it was like the finest of the finest of alcohol to Morning Star. It was rumored that one of their aids witnessed all seven of the old council members drinking one night in their private chambers with others, boasting how they kept the "gift" for themselves, that the envoy claimed that he was robbed by spirits in capes."

"Reapers…" Brandon voiced quietly. "Or pretending to be Reapers."

"I agree. And through extensive investigation, after returning from the war as a soldier and then joining the Department of Investigative Affairs before it was merged and renamed just the Department of Reaper Affairs and long before William T Spears was appointed head of the department, I forget the name of the Reaper who _became_ its head at the time, I learned that their was truth to the rumors the old High Council had indeed pilfered the gift from Morning Star for themselves, and hence started the war with the demons. But when I spoke out about it and my aids were subsequentially _removed_, meaning banished, and my evidence stolen, I was sentenced to live the rest of my existence in exile as a Fallen Reaper. I was offered no defense council and sentenced swiftly. People were afraid to speak out against the old High Council fearing the same fate.

"I drifted for thousands of years…" Then he looked at the boys and smiled. "And then I met Bryan, and then you two came along. Often it takes a great deal of pain and sacrifice to eventually find a peace everlasting. You boys are like my sons, I brought you up with your father. He is a good man, despite being a demon. Half demon. You two make me proud, and your father is proud of you as well. But trust me, I did not mean to cause this unrest in _Reaperdum._ I am attempting to clean up the mess left behind. I was appointed properly to First Prime by my peers when the truth was finally revealed."

"We know, Uncle Altima," Braydon said.

"And we are here to help you take out the garbage," Brandon said with a smile.

Altima returned the smile. "Good. Now, as captains of my _Royal Reaper Guard_, tell me - how is moral among the ranks?"

"Good for the most part, sir," Brandon reported. "No major issues to report."

The glass doors to Altima's office opened and William T. Spears, Head of Reaper Affairs, suddenly entered without announcement. "Forgive the intrusion, First Prime, but your secretary has been attempting to contact you without success, as I awaited out in the main lobby. So I let myself in."

"I was in session with my nephews, William," Altima said, not at all annoyed. He noticed the crystal block on his desk had stopped "ringing".

William T. Spears in his clean black Reaper uniform and glasses glanced at both Braydon and Brandon in turn, and gave a short nod. "Captains," he said, making reference to their new positions. But Altima knew the William was didn't like it. He knew William thought there were more qualified people that should have been given the jobs, and he had say such - but would be loyal? Altima had no question about Braydon and Brandon's loyalty to him. He withheld a smile, amused that William was miffed. It might also be the fact that his nephews now outranked William with the appointment of their new positions. "Sir, I will be blunt. The unrest within my department is serious. Reports are not being filed, work is piling up, souls are not being collected - leaving other Reapers to pick up the slack. They are overworked. They can only do so much already. My employees are filing complains."

"At least they are filing something," Altima said.

William was not one to smile at a joke.

"I do read your reports, William, so you being here is not surprising," Altima continued. "I have issued an order that more Reapers be trained quickly and put into service as soon as possible."

William bowed slightly, although stiffly. "I appreciate that, sir. But how will that help me at the present? By my calculations with work suffering it will take two hundred years to deal with the recent backlog that other Reapers have left for my employees to deal, with their _departure_. I do not wish to sound disgruntled, sir, but your appointment has fowled things."

Altima raised a brow in intrigue.

"How dare you speak to the First Prime that way!" Braydon said angrily.

William didn't relent or apologize and stood firm. He did not appear concerned with the young man's threat. Both twins had the same look of distain on their faces as they eyed him.

Altima put up a hand. "Sharp words, William. I know you always speak your mind. I see you _also_ have an opinion on the unrest in _Reaperdem_. This is understandable. I know your department is being hit the hardest by the sudden exodus of Reapers to the Infinity Party, who wish to kick me out of office. I wish to find the leader of this group, convince him of other methods instead of disrupting _Reaperdum_, as he has."

"Leader of the Infinity Party…"

"The one who has been stealing your people away in recent months, disgruntled employees, convincing them they would be better off with _him_ instead of under your command."

"I have heard rumors, but not even I know of his identity," William said, looking annoyed. "Notwithstanding, I have already begun an investigation."

"Yes, I know you have. I have you paperwork on the matter."

Altima went to his desk and retrieved a brown file folder on Fallen Reapers still unaccounted for - more than two hundred that the Reaper X teams had not be able to track down, that William had reported on, as well. A "suspect list" had named possible people as the Infinity Party's leader. People Altima knew by reputation, others he didn't know.

"This 'suspect list' you have provided me of _possible people_ for the leader of the Infinity Party, one name intrigues me…but _his_ name is omitted from the list you have provided me of returning Fallen Reapers and those who are outspoken against me. Mathu Kelvin. Care to explain this, William?"

"He is unattainable, sir," William said flatly. "But we know where he is…in _Hell_. Sebastian Michaelis, the demon who is at present in service to the young Phantomhive boy, Ciel, sent him there, and from recent events, he managed to escape and return back to the Human World. But now he has returned back to Hell. He is no threat to us anymore. Or to you."

"Why does your report not reflect this? You are always very thorough. All the others on the list have such rich detail of their possible affiliation to the Infinity Party and the old High Council."

"You are _friends_ with Sebastian Michaelis. Baring assumption, you are already aware of my report omission, so there was no need to repeat information already known. The captains of your _Royal Reaper Guard_" - William eyed the twins each in turn - "have been in contact with their father in recent weeks, I know this because I approved their leave and they have brought back news of Mathu Kelvin's inactivity as of late. Hence, I omitted him from the list of _missing_ Fallen Reapers and political enemies. I am quite satisfied that Mathu Kelvin is not leading this revolt."

"Quite, very good. And I agree. He is a showman and very powerful. He would not hide in the shadows. And if he _was_ a threat, he could easily attack _Reaperdum_ and make quite a mess on his own with the Infinity Party." Altima put the file folder back down. "So, William, do you have any ideas who _may _be instituting this Reaper revolt then and _is_ the leader of the Infinity Party?"

"Off the record, sir? I don't do unofficial reports. I report facts, sir. If I say who without facts to back up the claim, my reputation could be tarnished. I am a man of fact and figures, not of rumor and conjecture. And with all due respect, sir, call your dogs off. I do not wish to engage in a physical entanglement with them. Since I have entered this office, they have taken three steps towards me in an aggressive posture."

Altima looked at Braydon and Brandon and noticed William was correct. He called them back. "They are over-protective, forgive them," Altima said. "Your tone obviously _bothered_ them."

"I speak openly, I do not minst words. I am the Head of Reaper Affairs, and if there is a problem in my department, I am the one my employees come to. And there _are _many grievances. Perhaps, to cover the shortfall, you wouldn't mind that I _borrow_ your captains for a time, as they appear prime to vent obvious pent-up aggressive feelings."

Altima smirked. "While they are young and they do tend to express _boastful_ feelings of protectiveness, they are needed with me here in case someone wishes to do me harm, as may be the case if they are elsewhere. Notwithstanding, I will appoint some members from the _Royal Reaper Guard_ to aid you."

"That will be helpful, sir. I do dislike an undutiful department."

"Perhaps it may be prudent to give your young _upstarts_ a chance to test their meddle in the field before graduating, call it community service. And it will look good on their records."

"I am ahead of you on this, sir. This is already being implemented."

"Very good," Altima said. "So without barring any more difficulties, this problem should be solving itself in time. Please keep me up-to-date on the affairs of your department like always, William."

"Of course, sir."

Before leaving, William adjusted his glasses and gave each Braydon and Brandon a look of shallow contempt. Then he left through the doors, Altima watching him through the transparent walls. William walked out of the main lobby and through another door. It closed behind him.

"Such an amusing man," Altima said. "So staunch."

"He makes me angry," Braydon said. "Maybe he's the reason those Reapers are revolting."

Altima put up an admonishing finger. "Braydon, you know better to say such things. Eyes and ears are everywhere."

"I agree with Braydon," Brandon said. "Reapers respect William, and if he wished to revolt, many would follow him. And he has been know to speak out about issues in the past in open forum."

Altima returned to his desk and sat down. "I appreciate your concerns, Braydon, Brandon, but I truly believe William is _not_ the leader of the Infinity Party leading our Reapers astray. And he takes his position as Head of Reaper Affairs seriously. He's in the dark about this person as we are and I know it bothers him. I believe he was attempting to recruit you two to find this man, in not so many words."

"But without us, it would leave you open for attack, Uncle," Brandon said. "We'd refuse."

"I know you would. And I believe William knew this as well. But he tried nevertheless. I _also_ believe we need to find this person and expose him before he attempts a _coup de grace_ of my office. Any ideas?"

Braydon and Brandon looked at each and it appeared each had the same idea. "One," they said in unison.

"We bring in someone no one has ever seen to spy for us," Braydon said. "A new recruit, so to speak."

"Someone whom no Reaper would suspect of being a spy and who can fake sympathy for the factions, but who can also be objective in his approach to acquire information for us," Brandon said.

Altima looked intrigued. "And who would be this _mysterious_ spy?"

"Someone we all know quite well, Uncle. I will ask him to help us," Brandon concluded.

An hour later as Altima sat at his desk with Braydon aiding his uncle with some paper work - Brandon on his private mission - a Reaper entered into the First Prime office chambers after being announced by the secretary in the main lobby. He was young, considerably younger than Altima in years. And to Altima he was still a _baby_. The two-tone but slightly ruffled haired Reaper wore the standard black uniform and glasses and he strolled a few meters into the office before stopping. He then stood at attention as if to give Altima scrutiny over him. He looked nervous. But the boy didn't need to be. He had done nothing wrong. In his eyes, he probably thought he had if he had been summoned to the new First Prime's office chambers.

The Reaper had been instrumental in the brief battle against the demon Decco weeks prior that ultimately resulted in the demon's demise at the hand of his father Sebastian Michaelis. Normally Reapers who got involved in human affairs were chided for it and punished. For a previous offence, the young man _had_ been chastised and punished for his role against three Fallen Reapers, involving himself in _that_ human affair. He had received three demerit points, but ultimately they were returned and his normal status re-confirmed.

In Altima's eyes, the young man should have been praised _not_ punished for his role. But Altima was still a Fallen Reaper at the time and had no knowledge of these events until later. But in the recent exodus of Reapers revolting, Altima knew _this_ Reaper could be trusted and would never turn his back on the _Grim Reapers_. Therefore Altima had called upon him this afternoon.

"Reaper Ronald Knox," Altima began to say. His voice must have given the impression of ultimate authoritiveness, thus Knox snapped to attention tightly with his hands against his side. Altima saw this, and shook his head. "My friend, don't be worried. Relax. You are not in any trouble with me. At ease."

Knox did so, but only slightly. "First Prime Altima, you summoned me," he said.

"No Ronald, I _asked_ for you. There is a difference." Altima rose from his chair and came around his desk to stand in front of Knox. He put out his hand to shake the young Reaper's hand. Knox reciprocated. "I wished to thank you again for your help with the Decco demon affair. Your illicit involvement against Reaper regulation will _not_ be reflected on your record. I will make sure you receive a commendation for your help."

"Thank you sir," Knox breathed out calmly. "I thought the worse. I was worried I was in trouble."

Altima laughed. "Merely the opposite, my boy. In fact, I wish to employ your Reaper skills for a very important mission."

Knox nodded. "How can I be of service to you sir?"

"I need a favor. Well, it is a _more_ of a favor I own someone else, but I am not in a position to grant it being First Prime. I have too much work to do. So I wish to _ask you_ to implore it for me. If you are willing to do so. Saying no will not go against you. I trust you, that is why I wish to give you this task."

"What is the mission sir," Knox said with a smile.

"As I said, it is for a friend, a long time friend, in fact. Without his help, I would not be here. Notwithstanding, I need you to play _human_ for awhile and track someone down, an individual, a man who continues to be elusive to my _friend_."

"What is this man's name? I can ask Salem to look into the Hall of Records to identify him. This would be easier to follow his movements and perhaps even pinpoint his location."

Altima shook his head. "I don't wish to involve Salem in this matter. Well, not yet anyhow. If he is needed, I will ask. I want this search to be done in private."

Knox nodded. "I can do that. Where should I start? And what should I do when I find him?"

Altima leaned in and suddenly whispered something into Knox's right ear, Knox's brow rose. When Altima was finished, Knox looked slightly dumbfounded. "Sir?" He cleared his throat. "We have the capacity to do so, but only on _very rare _occasions and only if our own existence is in jeopardy…"

"Your mission is merely to collect his spirit and bring it to me. And I will process it _personally_."

Knox swallowed nervously. "I understand, sir. But this human is still -"

Altima clamped a hand on Knox's shoulder, smiling. "Can you do this?" Ignoring the obvious inclination.

Knox looked at Braydon, but then turned back to Altima gazing into his deep blue eyes. He nodded.

Altima smiled broadly. "Good. Please keep this to yourself. Do not inform William. I will tell him you wish to take some time off and I have authorized it. A vacation, a party. I know you enjoy visiting the human world and engaging in wild swinging parties from time-to-time and dating beautiful women. In my youth, so did I." He winked at Knox. "I will also _mask_ your movements from William's "eye-in-the-sky", his looking glass, that annoying device he uses to spy with to look upon Reapers during their missions, monitoring their progress - for _this_ secret mission." Altima returned to his desk, sat down. "Braydon will provide all the necessary information you'll need to complete your mission, he'll also help you out if called upon. Just say his name, and if he can attend at the time, he will do so."

Knox gave a side glance to Braydon in his blood red _Royal Reapers Guard's _uniform, and the captain of the RRG smiled at him conspiratorially.

"Wonderful to be working with you again, Reaper Ronald Knox," Braydon said, holding and opening a brown folder. "Now, let's get started on your mission. The man you will be _hunting down_ is named Bryon Kelvin…"

**To be continued…**


	2. Entrenched In Brutality

_A rude nature is worse than a brute nature by so much more_

_as man is better than a beast: and those that are of civil natures_

_and genteel dispositions are as such nearer to celestial creatures as_

_those that are rude and cruel are to devils._

**Margaret Cavendish (1623-1673)**

* * *

_**CHAPTER ONE: **_

_**"ENTRENCHED IN BRUTALITY"**_

The roar of the crowd inside this small, secluded underground amphitheatre was thunderous. Nearly a hundred people attended this combative contest. The cheers and voices were blood-thirty and boisterous, and they had paid not only a service charge to view this fight between two seemingly _raw_ fighters, but they were also betting on who would win with odds on the victor. This was a common theme with the new cult that called themselves the Enlightened Ones. Made up of elite people who thought of themselves as better than the masses, they had no qualms of engaging in every and any idealistic notion that fit their fancy. And the leader of the Enlightened Ones was a shadowy figure know only by his moniker.

No one had seen _the Leader_, but rumor and conjecture had him as some form of religious guru, although he made no public appearances, he did use a proxy to announce his views, however. _The Leader _never showed himself, orchestrating everything from behind an iron curtain. But his proxy was very well known, his name was Benjamin Vincent Royalek. A very handsome and youthful looking man who exhibited, even vainly, the beautification of how a man should appear. He was tall, fair skinned, had short brown hair and had a athletic frame. And when he appeared in public he always worn a perfectly pressed white suit.

But he was not at this bloodfest. Royalek was secretly coordinating his efforts within another cult, coaxing its members over to the Enlightened Ones, generating support and capital. The Illuminati was a dying cult lead by Kyle Livingston and its once three but now two facilitators Thann and Spencer Von Strauss. Changes within the Illuminati, after the death of its previous facilitators and leader, inserted these three men as its leadership trio. But an exodus within the cult was destroying it. New polities implemented were rejected by its members and therefore they were _removing themselves_ from the cult without the fear of being exposed to the public, for its members were the elite of English society. Ruin them, ruin England.

It was well known by _the Leader's_ spies that Ciel Phantomhive "owned" the Illuminati cult financially. Well, its English Branch anyway. After Wilhelm Lycus Lazarus's death, it began to deteriorate quickly. Many of its members followed Lazarus, they had no respect for Livingston or his "stoogies", Thann and Spencer Von Strauss. Thann had only briefly become the Sub-Head of the Illuminati, but willfully stepped down when there was no need for one any longer and became a facilitator like his younger brother, Spencer, much like their father was previous, before he was killed by what some reported as a tiger mauling in the Illuminati's main audience chamber. But _the Leader _knew the truth. It was no tiger mauling. It was the result of a demonic entity who attempted to usurp power from within. Demons were indeed real, he knew.

The battle between these combatants in the arena was barbaric, but of a different sort. It _was_ naturalistic, but it wasn't between two grown men who were fighting like honed gladiators, who had an atypical grudge against the other or whom had the will to slaughter the other just for a cut of the winnings. No, this fight involved two young boys, ages twelve and thirteen, who were _programmed_ to fight the other using their honed skills. They were two of _the Leader's_ "little assassins" - boys trained by a skilled master for combat. They were originally trained to complete tasks out in the world, whatever _the Leader_ wished, but as of late, that had ceased and the boys' - his "little assassins" were pitted against each other in a show of strength and skill. And it was to the death!

The boys' fought like mindless beasts using only their bare hands and natural instinct and skill and raw emotions. Like the gladiators of ancient Rome, this combat would be the perfect example of those times. When two combatants fought the other _naturalistically_ in the middle of an arena with hordes of spectators roaring cheers, betting on the winner, and not caring who lives and who dies. This is what the new cult the Enlightened Ones offered that was now forbidden in the Illuminati, one reason for a mass exodus from it.

The amphitheatre was bustling with raw, sadistic bloodlust, and the odds for each boy were marked on a chalkboard with one person standing close-by with further odds on how the death will occur, taking into account skill and aptitude. One boy had a slightly higher odds than the other, but it was the younger of the two that seemed to be the most favorable. This then brought the odds lower on the payout because so many of those attending were betting on him. However, despite prior wins against other opponents both were evenly matched. The smaller boy, the twelve year old, was just betterthe _odds_ at the moment.

The boys' naked flesh were drenched in both sweat the blood. They had no names to speak of, they were both merely known by their given moniker. The twelve year old was known as No.2 and the other boy No.5. Part of _The Leader's _"little assassins", an original set of nine all together before this competition began. No.5 fashioned a severe bloodied nose than could have been broken, but he didn't harbor any indication it caused him pain or discomfort. No.2 had very little damage. He had no external bruises or marks to speak of. They circled each other and then locked hands, clutching, interlocking like wrestlers of old, then pushed away, each attempting to one-up-man-ship the other as kicks were delivered with swift effectiveness, but neither connecting due to the skill and defense of the other and their insightfulness of their opponent's fighting ability. They had not fought the other before, it was obvious they had watched their opponent prior and studied them.

_The Leader_ smiled as he sat in a secluded and darkened booth overlooking the arena. He knew of each fighter, what they could do, but it was up each combatant of this contest to survey the other's skills and adapt, to win. And each of the boy's, these little assassins, were trained to remember vast amount of information, even within their primitive, seemingly uneducated, child-like brains. But he had a masterful way of educating each boy, with highly adaptive mind manipulation technology, created by the Orient. Chinese masters of brainwashing, using light reflection, torture techniques and code words, repeated to break the person, to _make_ them do things, even if it was against their very nature of being, against their very beliefs - and young minds were so easily manipulated with the correct programming, their minds broken with pushing; these kidnapped children. Standing next to _the Leader_ was a man in a white medical lab coat, he had black fizzy hair and wore glasses. He was only known as the Doctor, both for his medical prowess and by his educational teachings. They both watched the fight with utter fascination and glee.

"Magnificent," Leader remarked. "You adrenal serum is showing wonders, Doctor. Each boy is a killer at heart and follows every command I am willing to convey."

"I aim to please, sir," the Doctor replied. "But, and we have spoken about this before, prolonged exposure can result in unexpected psychological side-effects, as is the prime example of Number Three."

"Such as sociopathic and psychopathic behavior, I know. You have mentioned this before. But it is of no concern. If one of my 'little assassins' fall, I will just have Marik train another. There is an ample supply out there. Hopefully their usefulness to me will be complete by the time this occurs."

No.5 delivered a devastating punch to No.2, knocking him down. No.2 folded in, holding his ribs. But adrenaline helped him overcome the hit and he quickly returned to his feet to continue the fight. No.2 feinted a punch at No.5, and No.5 swung back. But it was merely a ploy, and No.2 swept No.5's feet from underneath him, knocking him down. No.2 then came in with attack, stomping hard on the ground to crush No.5's ribs, but No.5 rolled away quickly, getting back to his feet, backing off to gain distance.

Leader chuckled under his breath. "Marik has taught them very well. Rarely am I dazzled by such wonderful sport!"

"Number Three suffers from terrible headaches from the adrenal serum," the Doctor continued. "But they can be controlled temporarily with enough inhibitor drugs. However, we have found with tests, that when the inhibitor drugs are used, his programming becomes less stable."

Leader frowned. "Then why are you bothering me with the little details," he sneered. "The boys' health is your job. Now let me enjoy the match! My money is on the little one."

The little one, No.2, performed a back flip with excellent precision, as No.5 attacked with a vicious onslaught of punches and kicks. No.2's agility was more than enough to out-maneuver No.5's attacks. The young boy had some major talent. Before he was kidnapped and brought here, he was a good athlete in school. Scouted. In fact, before each boy was taken, there is a period of observation to see if they would be right for the tasks that would later befall them, and if their minds could handle the brainwashing. Some, unfortunately, could not, and were discarded, or rather killed, and dumped, so Scotland Yard could find them. This then created the cases of _the Kidnapper of London_, where boys and girls were kidnapped, seemingly randomly. The boy's were trained for _manly_ tasks, while the girls were tasked for other things. No.2 was also very smart and this came out in this battle as it did in all his other battles.

This was _not_ No.2's first match of the day. It was his second.

And it was his fifth over all, and No.2 had defeated each one with very little effort. Not all his fights were against other "little assassins", his other opponents had fighting abilities, but this _competitive contest _had tier levels, for which whoever came out on top became the best of the best. And each contest was to the death. So, No.2 had defeated five other opponents to get to this point. And even though No.2 had already defeated one opponent in a morning contest, Leader wanted him to fight again, against Marik's strict advise not to - thus, despite No.2 was the odds-on favorite, he could very much die here. And _the Leader_ had odds on that he wouldn't, and most of those in the crowd knowing this was No.2's second match were betting on him to lose. But Leader knew something everyone else didn't. No.2 would _not_ lose.

But No.2 did appear to be losing steam, however. He was breathing harder despite adrenal drugs were circulating within his system. With exhaustion in fighting two contests today, it was obviously getting to him now. Leader was not worried, however. Hoots and cheers from the crowd for No.5 to kill No.2 roared. If No.2 did lose, Leader would lose a lot of money. But he knew he wouldn't lose, the Doctor assured such.

With a swift roundhouse kick to the face, No.2 went down, falling hard to the floor. He remained still for a moment - the crowd roared approval - but then got back to his feet. No.5 then slammed a hard right into the cheekbone of No.2 and the boy recoiled, but he didn't fall. Nevertheless, he did give a little distance to recover from the blow. No.2 felt his face, his hands now covered in blood. His lip was bleeding from the left side and nose. He looked dazed and stumbled slightly.

"The added boost of adrenaline should kicked in…_now_," the Doctor said.

Suddenly, No.2 charged No.5 just as the Doctor said, his eyes quickly fueled with an inner fire, and he speared No.5 in the stomach. No.5 was tossed meters away by the impact, rolling over and over. No.2 then went on the attack, wasting no time. He was like a boy possessed. He ran like a cheetah, jumped, flipped like a martial artist, and landed with a bone-crushing sound on top of No.5's chest.

No.5 cried out horribly, the entire arena echoed with it, and he reeled in pain, folding in, clutching his ribs.

No.2 stepped back momentarily, then looked up at the darkened booth.

"_Finish him!_" Leader demanded.

There was a temporary hush over the crowd, as No.2 went back over to No.5, leaned in, took hold of No.5's head as the boy focused on his injury…and snapped No.5's neck without mercy. It was plain murder, unsportsmanlike, but it got the job done. No.5 obviously would indeed suffer from internal injuries and would not survive long, so in a way, this killing was merciful…and it made _the Leader_ a small fortune. No.2 had no empathy, however. It was not within the _heart_ of a fighter. It was kill or be killed. This was his _programming_.

The crowd roared, some booed for their loss. But the majority just enjoyed the contest. This was the last contest of the day, several had commenced within the hours they crowd had been here.

When the crowd began to disperse from the multi-tier stone seats and out into the access ways, it was then a thin looking man with a medium build entered the arena floor. He was dressed a loose fitting beige cotton long-sleeve shirt and dark pants. He had a slightly thinning hair line and was graying at the temples, and eyes were sunken in, as if he had seen too much death and was sad about it. He went to No.5 and knelt down and examined the boy, the boy was indeed dead. He then looked at No.2, the boy breathing heavy, drenched in sweat and blood. Leader watched him closely from the darkened booth.

"What say you, Marik?" Leader said. "Will No.2 be ready to fight in the days to come?"

Marik eyed the booth, but would have seen only darkness from where he knelt. But _the Leader's_ true identity was not lost to him. Yet the older man knew how to keep a secret, his life depended on it.

"He needs medical treatment, _sir_," Marik replied with a hint of disdain. Leader knew Marik hated these contests. But who cared. He did what he was told. "His injuries are minor. I will attend to them now." Marik them turned his back to the booth and escorted the boy out of the combat arena.

"It would appear Marik is not in the greatest of moods," the Doctor commented. "He looks displeased."

But _the_ _Leader_ merely chuckled with amusement.

* * *

The Doctor rolled the man known as _the Leader_ in his wheelchair to a detection centre area isolated deep beneath the amphitheatre. In a jail cell was a young boy age fourteen, muttering something under his breath, a religious prayer of some sort. It was strange, for no one knew how the boy would have known anything religious, for it was forbidden to his "little assassins", corrupting their susceptible little minds with dangerous thoughts. But the boy had to have learned his _mutterings_ from someone, somewhere. He suspected Marik, the boy's trainer, for he was a religious man, but No.3 could also have learned this biblical rhetoric through other people within his employ, or from his parents before he had been picked up by his minions who, also snatched other children off the street to bring them _here_ for his needs. For among his other pennames, but only a few knew, he was also known as the notorious Child Kidnapper of London.

He couldn't understand clearly the boy's mutterings and frankly he didn't care. _He_ was this boy's _god_ now and whatever he told the boy, he was compelled to do it. Just recently, No.3 had become mentally unstable. He, mostly recently, exploded into a rage and attacked people in _the Leader's_ employ, thus the reason he was presently locked in this cell. He was trained to be a killer, and he was very good one - not so better than a certain other he had known, a boy only referred to as No.6 - but No.3 was close enough to _that_ skill level, and it was often fantasized by Leader, which one of them would emerge the victor in an arena fight.

But No.6 was gone, he had been the only one of his "little assassins" who had _escaped_ him. Thanks to his nephew. At the time, it appeared an excellent plan - have him pretend he had escaped captivity and insidiously insert him into the Phantomhive fold to later replace his fraternal twin brother. Lukas Phantomhive would _become_ Ciel Phantomhive, then the entire fortune would become subsided to _him_. What he didn't foresee, however - and he thought his plan would be foolproof - was Ciel's highly apt butler, and the spiritual entity that possessed his nephew that had completely separate agenda than his own, whom Sebastian Michealis, a demon, later defeated and sent the entity and his nephew to Hell. One of his loyal minions witnessed it all and reported back of the incident.

Joker, his minion, also brought something back _with_ him when he reported back, a blue roughly cut gem that was suspected to contain an evil influence, found at the sight of the incident. Which was now known as the _Fallen Reaper Affair_. It was a piece of the Hope Diamond, a diamond so entrenched with brutality and insidiousness that it cursed anyone who possessed it, its history a long and cursed one. Ciel Phantomhive, at one point, suspected to be the last of his family line, possessed a piece, and he wore it in a ring that once belonged to his father, Vincent Phantomhive, on his left thumb because it was too big to fit around one of the boy's tiny fingers. Ciel, also, at one time, was slated to be sacrificed within a group _the Leader_ had associated with, who called themselves the _Inner Circle_ - a group of men with a plan to overthrown the Crown and install their own leadership, but its members were later killed by unforeseen forces - and the boy escaped, after the group's attempt to appease the demon they summoned went arye, bringing forth an entity of such immensity that they were slaughtered themselves, along with all their sacrificial lambs. Ciel Phantomhive, the only one to survive it all.

In further _spying_ on the Phantomhive's, Lukas Phantomhive now had a ring of similarity in his possession. The two boys lives were cursed beyond any belief, their personal histories intertwined in ways they could not have imagined and later reunited after seven years apart. Lukas was trained as an assassin, and indirectly, causing the death of his own parents by setting fire to their mansion with others _the Leader_ ordered to do so, and murdering his father's group of friends dubbed: "the Aristocrats of Evil", all because they refused to see past their blind sights of perfection, their vanity, that everyone else was beneath them. The Hope Diamond was now back in the possession of a personal collector, but much smaller than its original state - thus other pieces were floating out there _somewhere_. Regardless, the Phantomhive's last hooray was at its apex. Soon, finally, he'd have his _full_ revenge on the Phantomhive's, adjacent to his own personal agenda to establish a world of _Perfection_.

"Stop that!" the Doctor demanded of the boy.

No.3 sitting in a corner of the cell with his knees to his chest and hands around them looked up at the pair now silent. He was a well-formed boy, albeit a little small for his age - he looked eleven or twelve - had dark brown, scruffy-tasseled hair and green eyes. He was taunt muscularly and outwardly no one would suspect him as being a serial killer, for which No.3 had already murdered, on order, a dozen people. The boy looked angelically-innocent at the moment with a slightly dirty face and glassy eyes.

"_Father…_" the boy said softly under his breath. Not drug-induced he was subdued, not controlled by his programming. The Doctor's adrenal serum enhanced the boy's awareness and programming. He had been here for three days, after his rampage in hurting several people. "Forgive me, _Father_, for I have sinned. I have broken the Lord's Fifth Commandment, to honor thy father…"

There was a pause from _Father_, yet another _name_ he was known for. Even with all of the boy's programming by _him_, something's were just engrained within his psyche. His parents must have "programmed" him with a religious consciousness. But _Father_ decided to play benevolent. "Yes, my child. And all if forgiven. And, I have another job for you."

"I feel unwell, my head hurts."

_Father_ looked up at the Doctor. One eye bandaged. In fact, his entire body was bandaged from continuous surgeries conducted by the Doctor. _Father _wanted to be perfect just like his plan _for_ Perfection. The Doctor walked to the cell door, unlocked it with a key and stepped inside. The boy looked up at him with sympathetic, teary eyes, as if to say, "help me", but instead of a bedside manner, the Doctor pulled out a syringe with a clear liquid, pulled up the boy's tattered shirt sleeve and injected it into the boy's right arm.

"_Ow_," the boy said. "That hurt!" rubbing his arm.

"You will feel better almost instantaneously," the Doctor said.

The Doctor returned to _Father's_ side. And like the Doctor said, almost immediately No.3's eyes looked more clear, his face more focused. He stood on his feet in the cell at attention in front of _Father_. "What is thy bidding, _Father_?" No.3 said.

_Father_ smiled beneath his face bandages. The Doctor explained, "I have been working on a stronger formula without the side effects of the previous. This should further enhance No.3's mental facilities and eliminate any chances of _acting out_, so to speak. With slight alterations to the original chemical formula, I foresee No.3 surpassing No.6's ability and skill, as you do have, continuously expressed, _feelings _of attachment to him."

_Father_ eyed the Doctor with a look of contempt, but only for a moment. But the man was right, _Father_ still did have an attachment to No.6, Lukas Phantomhive. He witnessed the transformation of the boy into a trained killer as an act of reprisal for what Vincent Phantomhive did to him, rejected _him_ because of his looks. In the past, every mirror _Father_ gazed into showed the image of an aged man, ugly. With all the surgeries he had undergone, soon beautification of himself will be his ally despite his chronological age. He had hoped that Lukas Phantomhive could be recaptured and then programmed once more. Lukas Phantomhive had broken his programming, the only one of his "little assassins" to do so, and then escaped, but all it would only take is a simple phrase to restore the boy back to him, to restore everything. A phrase so deeply engrained in Lukas Phantomhive's unconscious mind that only _Father _could activate it, by the sound of his _own _voice, so no one else can take control over the boy. _Father _never sired any biological children, so No.6 over the years he had been among the boy started to feel like a son to him, _his_ son. The rest of his _Children_ meant nothing to him. And, perhaps this was why he wanted No.6 back.

"Perhaps," Father replied. And he left it at that. "I have a target for you, No.3."

"I will obey, Father. The target shall not escape me. I will hunt him down and send him to Hell!"

"Very good," Father said with a smile of amusement. "But before I give you your orders, visit the medical room, speak with Marik, and get a check up. Then report back to me. You will need a clean bill of health to face your target, for he is cunning, crafty and intelligent. And he has been trained much like you have."

"Yes, I hear and obey, _Father_."

No.3 left the cell and headed down the narrow corridor on his way to the medical room.

"Who will you be sending him to kill?" the Doctor asked.

"None of my little assassins are as good as No.6 was," Father said. "But, if your new adrenal serum is as great as you claim, I will have another _No.6_ soon."

"So you will sending him against Lukas Phantomhive?"

"If No.3 survives, I will finally be rid my _hauntings_ of Lukas Phantomhive forever."

"Hauntings?"

"Most recently, I have been haunted by dreams of a disturbing nature, and each, albeit some details waver from spectacle to spectacle, they all end the same way. I am killed Lukas Phantomhive."

"Killed? Karma, or are you finally developing a conscious mind of what you have been doing these last ten years?" the Doctor said in a sarcastic tone, rolling Father in his wheelchair down the corridor.

"Neither, Doctor. And I will warn you but once, and only once, to hold your tongue on such _things_!"

* * *

Marik examined No.2 in the medical room within this stone subterranean world that housed the amphitheatre. The arena was but one part of it with its labyrinth of corridors and rooms built within, constructed in ancient Roman times, for secretive purposes only the long dead could reveal now. But it had been revamped and revitalized when _Father_ found it.

No.2 was on a metallic medical table and sat properly, a towel wrapped around his waist - _Father _had him fight naked like the old Roman gladiators. But he neither flinched nor moved when Marik took care of the boy's wounds. The boy looked straight ahead, as if focused on one spot on a wall. The programmable influence the boy was under prevented the basic "hurt" emotions associated with his injuries. No.2 had a bleeding, slit lip, thankfully only a bloody nose and not a broken one, and a huge swelling bruise emerging on his left cheek from where No.5 struck with a massive right cross punch, in the arena.

Unfortunately No.5 was dead. The boy who was once called Jared Goldschmidt, taken from his parents home when he was being looked after by their man servant - the son of a wealthy ship merchant. His parents had demanded Scotland Yard search endlessly for their son, and offered a cash reward. But that was three years ago. Since then, the case had gone cold. It was listed as being with the case of the Child Kidnapper of London. The sad thing about each case was that eventually, every child taken ended up dead. There was no exception. When _Father_ felt they outlived their usefulness to him, he would discard them like trash. One had escaped him, Lukas Phantomhive, but as the media reported, he had amnesia and couldn't remember anything about his captivity. Marik feared for the boy, _Father_ hated to lose. And the boy was still a threat. For if he began to remember things, Bryon Kelvin - _Father, the Leader _- would be hunted down like a dog, despite rumors of his death by a medical staff infection years prior.

Marik focused on No.2. He knew before this barbaric combat began that one of the boys would not survive. Since this had been No.2's second fight of the day, against No.7 this morning, he thought No.2 would die. But No.2 had shown both resistantcy and great combative skill during these competitions _Father _had set up, albeit sickening. Marik had an attachment with each of the "little assassin's" as they were called, for he trained them, both in offensive and defensive skills. Some of the boys showed more talent than others, but none like No.6 - Lukas Phantomhive. No.2 and No.3 were close. But when each boy died, a piece of him died with them. For despite he training them to kill, to compete against each other in sick and twist combat like this, only proved how demented _Father_ really was.

"You'll be fine, No.2," he said. He hated that name, and he made it important to know and remember each name, every one, as best he could, every "little assassin" he trained. There were only nine "little assassins" at any given time. The "numerical designation" was given to each boy by _Father_, and when one _fell_ and had to be replaced, a new boy was brought in for Marik to be trained, reallocated from somewhere else from within Bryon Kelvin's vast underground criminal network; a fallen boy, his designation was given to a newcomer, as a replacement, their real name discarded.

No.2's real name was Yurly Jacobs, the son of a Russian immigrate. Yurly had been snatched off the street as he waited outside a Handyman shop on the outskirts of London while his father went into the store. Yurly was looking at the toys in the window next door when the twins Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, now missing themselves, took him and brought him to _Father_. After several sessions of brainwashing, Marik was told to train him - or see if he was capable of. No.2 surprisingly had a natural aptitude for combat. Later he learned Yurly's father was a boxer in Russia who had brought his son to England for a better life with his winnings. They had only been in England for a week before Yurly was snatched. Snatched not only because Kelvin needed another boy,but because he was "beautiful-looking". Kelvin compared all his "toys/boys" to Ciel Phantomhive whom he felt was "_the beautification of perfection_…", which was the main reason why Kelvin had Lukas Phantomhive's face altered with surgery to look like his fraternal brother. Lukas by birth had a plain-looking face. Not only was Ciel "beautiful" in Kelvin's eyes, but it was also suitable to replace the real thing with a fake, thus Lukas, faking the boy's death…

Yurly sat still, his injuries seemingly unaffecting him. He was like some mechanical doll. After the boy's cuts and bruises were dealt with and any bandages applied, Marik said, "I'm sorry…"

No.2 looked at him, tilted his head slightly in a curious manner, empathy was obviously not in his vocabulary or mental process. That's how strong Kelvin's brainwashing was, not an ounce of remorse or guilt was left in the boy's mind.

Another man walked into the medical room. He was a tall thin man, wearing a dark brown suit, with round speculates and black hair. He was concerned for the boy's well-fare. To everyone he was simply referred to as the Professor, because he educated all of _Father's_ "little assassins" and then some; honing their mental facilities to their sharpest. Not only did each boy need combat training to perform _Father's_ assignments, but the boy's needed to also think on their feet if a job did not go exactly as planned, to alter and make changes at will to complete their mission. The Professor felt the same way as Marik did, that _Father _was a sick, twisted and perverted individual.

"How is he, Marik?" the Professor asked, looking into the boy's eyes. No.2 stared back at him straightly, the boy's pupils dilated normally. The Professor also had medical training, but it was mostly in psychology. "I witnessed every disgusting minute of the fight. It made me sick."

Marik nodded. "None of them are as good as Number Six, and they never will be, no matter how many fights they endue," he said. "But we can not be outspoken about it or _Father_ will kill us both."

The Professor agreed. "What I would like to know is why he's doing this? There's no reason for it. With each death, he must go out and pick up another boy for you to train."

"I know, and Number Three is showing severe signs of mental instability due to the adrenal abuse the Doctor subjects him to, those damn drugs! I have had to isolate him from the rest. Three days prior he attacked others in a fit of uncontrollable rage brought on by the stressful affects of those drugs in his body."

"I heard about that." Professor folded his arms across his chest. "Number Six was the only one to brake _Father's_ programming and escape, Lukas Phantomhive. He now resides with his fraternal twin, Ciel, at the Phantomhive mansion. The media jumped all over him, but he did not reveal the identity of…" He let the sentence trail off, for they each knew the complete story of Lukas Phantomhive's sudden resurrection, whereas his parents Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive had claimed him dead due to a surgerical procedure that had gone wrong, killing him. They died not knowing the truth, that their son was actually alive, turned into an assassin by Bryon Kelvin, brainwashed to do _his_ bidding, and may have even, if the rumors floating around were true, killed his own parents in a fire than erupted through the Phantomhive mansion that _Father_ sent his "little assassins" to start.

Ciel Phantomhive, Vincent and Rachel's other son, survived by other yet unexplained means. And even though the details are still sketchy and supposedly will never be truly realized, Ciel was originally supposed to die in the fire with his parents, on _Father's_ orders. However, for some odd reason, he was bought back to _Father_ by Lukas, an explanation never given. A report was given that Vincent and Rachel were already incapacitated before Lukas and others arrived at the mansion, their bodies then burning to ash in the fire. In essence, Lukas saved his brother than night, even though Ciel had to endure days of anguish afterwards. Marik would have liked to have believe Lukas, that night, had a moment of compassion for his brother, breaking his programming to take Ciel back to _Father_. If so, then it had only been a momentarily lapse, because afterwards Lukas - No.6 - completed a series of killings, and murdered all of Vincent Phantomhive's closest aristocratic friends, including his own uncle, Clause Phantomhive.

"He was _Father's_ best assassin, until something triggered an unrest in his mind and he couldn't restore the boy's programming. Lukas Phantomhive suddenly became immune to it and to all the drugs. He was caged and assigned to be killed because he had outlived his usefulness. _Father_ had his memories buried with induced amnesia, then Lukas escaped and found his way to his fraternal twin brother Ciel."

"Lukas's face was changed to share with his brother with plastic surgery. I found it odd that _Father_ went to such great lengths to have Lukas Phantomhive's face to look like Ciel's."

"Lukas was plain looking. _Father_ likes beautiful things. He thinks Ciel is a _beautiful boy._"

"Bryon Kelvin. Why are _we_ referring to this sick psychopath as _Father_ in self company?"

"We know who _he_ is, but there are eyes and ears everywhere. This is the way he wants it, Professor. He sees himself as the _father_ of these children, '_His Children'_, as he calls them. Between you and me, I am glad at lease _one _escaped him. No boy or girl he has taken has ever returned _alive_ to their parents."

"He's looking for a new No.6, hence this competition, I think," the Professor said.

"Do you think Kelvin killed Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive to put his plans into affect?" Marik said. "I know he gave Ciel Phantomhive to the Inner Circle for their sadistic sacrifices."

"I don't know. All I know is that _something_ happened during the Inner Circle's last sacrificial session that gave Ciel Phantomhive purchase to survive. But rumors have arisen that someoneelse was responsible for Ciel's parents' deaths. We may never know for sure. But Bryon Kelvin did send his _little assassins _to set fire to the old Phantomhive mansion and Lukas Phantomhive was among them. But none lain claim to killing Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive."

"No one clarified whether they saw the Phantomhive's dead beforehand either," Marik said.

"The boys weren't programmed for that. They were sent for a specific task and that was it, to set the mansion aflame."

"Like you said, we may never know."

"But I miss Lukas," the Professor said saddened. "He was an excellent student."

"And he learned quickly," Marik agreed. He looked at No.2. "He only needed to be shown something once to master it, much like Yurly here."

"Apt with an idyllic learning ability. I wonder how he's adapting to his new life."

"Joker and other of _Father's_ circus mercenaries are keeping tabs on him. Did you know, yet another Phantomhive has joined the fray? His name is Renfrew Phantomhive, a distant cousin, or so reports say. He is now residing at the mansion as well."

"Never heard of him. I thought Kelvin researched the entire family and its history. Other than Lukas Phantomhive, he thought Ciel was the last of the lineage."

"And now here comes another Phantomhive out of nowhere like a ghost in the night." Marik finished with No.2, but still wanted to keep him around for observation purposes for the next couple of hours. Sometimes when adrenaline wore off, certain injuries had a way of coming forth suddenly.

"I don't believe in coincidences," the Professor said. "Things have a logic to them. It was most likely that that apt butler, he must have _hid_ Renfrew from Kelvin somehow…or maybe the elder butler, I don't know. Or, like many big families, for which the Phantomhive's once were, the boy may have fallen through the cracks and off the family tree to finally return _now_. Like Lukas Phantomhive, who was reported dead seven years prior by medical mishap."

"Yes, perhaps."

Suddenly No.3 emerged in the doorway of the medical room. Marik saw him first. "No.3? You're…_here_?"

Marik and the Professor looked confused, and a little concerned. No.3 appeared normal, unlike the disturbed self he was three days prior when he went on an uncontrolled, inexplicitable rampage of attack in this facility, hurting many. He was caged in a jail cell to protect others and himself until they learned the cause, taken off "active duty" until further notice.

"_Father_ has another assignment for me," No.3 said calmly. The boy stood straight and focused. "I am here for a medical check-up before _Father _relays me the details of my mission."

The Professional quickly looked into No.3's eyes. "He's been drugged again, to give him focus." He swore. "Damn that man, Kelvin! He doesn't care if he destroys these boys!"

No.2 turned his head towards No.3 and eyed him harshly. Marik saw this, and it wordlessly appeared like a challenge from Yurly to No.3. No.3 eyed him back. Each "little assassin" had what appeared to be a competitive streak, where each boy attempted to top another boy - it may have been a side effect of the adrenal drug. And not just in the arena. No.2 and No.3 had never fought against each other and both had an equal amount of kills both in the arena and out in the field, _Father's_ assassination missions. He hoped this wasn't an indication of a problem developing between these two.

"Come in No.3. Yes, let's give you that check-up," Marik said.

**To be continued…**


	3. A Cryptic Message

_Saint and demon blindly stare_

_From the risen stone;_

_Brought to the common character_

_Neither can stand alone._

**Howard Nemerov, "Europe" - American poet**

* * *

_**CHAPTER TWO: "A CRYPTIC MESSAGE"**_

_Ciel Phantomhive ran for his life. He ran across a seemingly endless plain of nothingness, and appeared, no matter where he ran, not to be getting any further away from the shadowy-figure that was chasing him, or to any sanctuary to hide from it._

_Since the death of his parents and his "rebirth" from it, he had never runaway from anything, but this "thing" - it was less of a tangible thing than a feeling of utter fright of it - frightened him. He knew it was a child's fear of the something unknown, but he couldn't help be deathly afraid of it. He __was only 13. And despite his growth from child to head of the Phantomhive's, he still could not shake some fears._

_He was in his bed clothes in his bare feet. The barren landscape spread all around him, the crimson sky filtering its blood-red illumination across the area._

_He stopped, unable to run anymore - out of breath, and frustrated. He had been trying to out-run this thing for what felt like forever. He could hear its taunts inside his mind, echoing, laughing at his futile attempt to escape it. He breathed heavily, panting, bent over holding his knees. But he knew he had to keep running…run as far away from whatever it was that would not leave him alone. This darkness that threatened to swallow him whole._

_Where was Sebastian? And why wasn't he here to protect him from this thing?_

_He looked down at his feet and suddenly saw his own reflection in a puddle of water that seemed out of place in this barren landscape. He was not wearing his eye patch, and he could see his covenant cursed right eye, its Faustian contract glimmering and gleaming with purple-crimson. He covered it with his hand, and he looked up, then saw the shadowy figure he had been running from standing before him. Tall, thin and dark. Panicked, Ciel felt backwards on his rear._

_The figure did not speak as per se, but Ciel could hear its voice inside his mind:_

_"It is all your fault…"_

_"What…what is all __my fault?" Ciel demanded._

_The shadowy figure pointed at Ciel's hands, and Ciel looked at both…and they were covered in blood._

_Ciel's face contorted in shock._

_Then he snapped a hand to his right eye as an agonizing pain penetrated the eyeball. The reflective puddle changed images, and a younger self rippled - an image of Ciel when he was nine years old. His _other self _smiled with an innocent, careless smile - a child's smile, a happy smile. And he remembered this moment, this was the time he was smiling and introduced himself to Bryon Kelvin at one of his father's parties. Shy and skittish, he momentarily overcome his shortcomings at the besiege of his father, to say hello to one of his guests. The man who would eventually destroy his family, his very happiness. A massive smile broached his face, and it was conclusively genuine. He was a happy child, way back when before…_

_Still clutching his eye, he slammed a fist into the puddle with his left hand distorting the image. He was not that happy, go-lucky child any longer. He was Lord Phantomhive now. And despite everything that had happened since his parents' murder and the fire that destroyed his family mansion, even with being re-united with Lukas, even having Renfrew now staying with them, he was still head of the family._

_And bitter, resentful, vengeful, and he would not relent in those emotions._

_"These tricks will not work, I will not falter…in my promise!"_

_"Truth is the key to salvation. Why do you deny yourself?" the figure said. "Your promise is amusing."_

_"Amusing? A madman murdered my parents, destroyed my family, and you say it is amusing?"_

_The shadowy figure paused. "No…but your quest is. You have in essence delivered yourself into Hell."_

_"Often the world is this very thing. I gave myself willingly to a demon, to enact my revenge."_

_"And yet you are no closer to it, and your soul is filled with hate. This is what I find amusing."_

_The pain in his eye had quickly subsided and he had caught his breath. He stood on his feet. He faced the shadowy figure, not one distinguishing feature was cast in the light to identify who this figure may be. "I do not find what I am doing amusing, and why are you haunting my dreams? Just who are you?"_

_"You have not told your butler about me?"_

_"No, my dreams are my own providence. He is my butler only."_

_"Oh, I suspect he is much more than that…and not just your keeper until the end."_

_"Hold your tongue, dream-spirit!"_

_The figure laughed._

* * *

A gentle spirit moved through the corridors and hallways of the Phantomhive mansion. It was stalking something, something smaller than itself. A creature of such annoyance to others, but _game_ to another. This spirit prowled through the darkened main vestibule, its vision eyeing its prey…and then leapt up and forward, pounced on it, holding it down with his paws, then clutching it within its sharp teeth, clamping down hard on its furry neck. The smaller animal squealed.

Vincent had caught yet another mouse in the Phantomhive mansion. Despite his aptitude for becoming spiritual-esqe and then solid at any time of his choosing, this ghost-like ability was an asset to de-mousing his new masters' home. To date, he had caught twelve mice that had somehow found their way into the mansion from the countryside. And it was assurance to think, more were to come. And Vincent, the ghost cat - the all powerful mouser - would be there to protect his new masters' from…_evil_.

He ventured down the hallway leading to Ciel's study and nudged at the door. It would not open, it was locked. He could easily enter the room as a spirit, but he had a mouse in his mouth and did not want to let it go. There was a small opening between the door and floor, enough for him to squeeze through with his catch in his mouth…and soon he was in the room. He crunched down on the mouse once more, making sure it was dead, then he jumped up onto Ciel's desk and laid it on the middle. A present.

The large bay window in the study flashed with lightning, an ungodly thunderstorm rumbled outside with heavy rain and wind. The sudden flash illuminated the room momentarily frightened Vincent, but he didn't run, only flinched. He had spent many days and nights outside during storms as a ghost cat, so he knew storms could not hurt him. Instinct or _fright_ of the unknown was the only thing that made him jump when yet another even loud crackling of thunder proceeded the first, and Vincent jumped off the desk and hid beneath one of the black leather couches. He wanted to scurry away and find Renfrew, his owner now and from a previous lifetime, but he remained where he was at the moment. Besides, the storm would be upstairs, too. His master was sleeping now. The whole household was asleep.

Suddenly a loud, shattering crash was heard, and seen. An owl crashed through the bay window, glass shattered everywhere, the framing came off its hinges from the impact. The owl hit with such tremendous force that it appeared to have died instantly. Following it, torrential rains from the massive storm began to saturate the room with water, soaking everything within reach. The owl's velocity caused it to bounce off Ciel's desk and roll haphazardly to the floor…where it now lay in a heap on the hardwood, a cut to its body, carved into it by the glass, a flow of blood seeping out from the wound, mixing with rain.

In was the middle of the night, half past two in the morning, and no one but Vincent had heard or seen the owl come through the window - not even the apt, often _spooky_ head butler, Sebastian Michealis. Vincent knew the demon posing as a human was in his quarters doing _something_ while the rest of the household slept. Demons did not need to sleep. They did have a thousand year rest cycle, but it was no where near that time. And neither did ghost cats. Vincent did take "catnaps", but they weren't naps per se, but energy restoring sessions - the energy he used to be solid needed to be replenished somehow, and he used the absorption energy of life around him, picking at it, enough to replenish him but not enough to drain those he took it from to notice to restore himself. He did this on a daily basis, like humans did when they slept.

Vincent had become a permanent resident of the mansion and family member when he found his long ago master Renfrew Phantomhive, whom Vincent had been his pet many years ago. The story went that the cat had most likely died from a broken heart when Renfrew accidentally killed himself attempting to convince his father to stop abusing him. Renfrew used his father's gun as a scare tactic and pointed at himself, it accidentally went off killing him instantly through the chest. This caused Renfrew to wander aimlessly for nearly a century and a half as a ghost unable to rest. That, until events brought him to Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive, his cousins, and he fought along side them to defeat a demon, Sebastian Michaelis's youngest son, Decco, who posed a deathly threat to not only to them, but to Heaven and Hell, as well. Decco had built a demonic army to overthrown Morning Star/Lucifer. But with the return of Sebastian's long time mentor, the very powerful demon teacher Belial, that was foiled, and Decco was cast away to his death.

For his help, a Fallen Reaper named Altima granted redemption for Renfrew, for which Renfrew had sought for his "unforgivable sin" and granted him a new body, that of Johnny Lazarus, who had become a pawn to the demon Decco. Johnny Lazarus had died three years earlier, but his body was resurrected to serve Decco, covenanted along with his father Wilhelm Lycus Lazarus, who was the head of a powerful cult called the Illuminati. Decco had a long time score to settle with Sebastian Michaelis and had plans to eliminate him, believing Sebastian was the only person who could stop his plans to defeat Morning Star. And also, in truth, as he was so powerful, Sebastian had tried to murder Decco after birth. But Morning Star snatched him away, unknowing that Decco would one day be a threat to him and his demonic kingdom.

Renfrew, when he was a ghost, had put Sebastian to sleep, to relive his past, punishing him for accessing certain secret memories inside Lukas Phantomhive's mind - for which Sebastian, nightly, was helping Lukas restore his amnesiac past. But Renfrew's attempt later on, turned out to be moot. Sebastian's teacher and mentor Belial had not been imprisoned in a void after all, as originally thought, and had been, in fact, on secret sabbatical. With this information, they then learned that Belial was back with Morning Star, and Decco's evil army was then rendered inert with its annihilation. Sebastian then took Decco back into the ancient past, to Ancient Pompeii, where Sebastian - once human, before agreeing to become a demon to save his own life during the eruption of Vesuvius, his body badly burnt and on the verge of death - left Decco there, rending his demon powers inert, causing his son's demise as the mountain erupted and spewed volcanic ash and fireballs, that ultimately buried the city. Pompeii would then be lost.

Later when things settled down and peace once again was restored to the Phantomhive household, Vincent came calling, drawn by his old master's spiritual aura. Renfrew was now in Johnny Lazarus's body, but Vincent still knew it was him. Ciel was reluctant to allow Vincent to stay at the mansion, but how on earth could anyone tell a ghost cat what to do? And besides, not only was he Renfrew's pet, but they were companions. It was also the only cat that didn't trigger Ciel's allergies. Ciel said as long as Renfrew cared for it, there should not be a problem. And even though having a ghost cat was beyond _unusual_, the staff knew about Vincent and accepted him. Besides, Finny, Mey-Rin and Bardroy had all seen many "unusual" things in their lives and journeys, and having a ghost cat live with them was bizarre but okay with them.

Vincent was an expert mouser. However, a cat was a cat, often with a mind of its own, and Vincent had a mischievous streak in him. He would jump on tables and people for attention, all cats did, especially when they were bored. Renfrew kept Vincent in line for the most part, but again, how can someone truly control a ghost cat? Having Vincent around also made Renfrew happy, and most recently, with the family's most recent adventures with Fallen Reapers and demons enemies, Ciel had learned that family was important. Only a year prior, it was just him, Sebastian and the servants. Now it was Ciel, Sebastian, the servants, Lukas, Renfrew and Vincent, the ghost cat. The family was growing by leaps and bounds.

And so was _Funtom Co_. with the acquisition of the Von Strauss leather and meat business.

Thann Von Strauss and his younger brother Spencer, now very good friends with the Phantomhive's, learned that their father had a massive amount of debt left behind after his untimely death. Due to this, the Von Strauss family was in dire financial straits. Ciel offered them a deal, which, from recent events, was gladly accepted, and it gave the Phantomhive's 51% of the Von Strauss business. Ciel paid off all the Von Strauss's debts with no dent in the Phantomhive financial fortune. It was also a good business acquisition.

Also, Thann and Spencer were now members of the secret society known as the Illuminati, a cult that secretly handled the social and political venues of England and that aboard, especially in America, and also the world's economies behind a veil of secrecy. The Illuminati were the real rulers and destiny seekers of the world, and had elite individuals within their walls - socialites, political leaders, heads of state, the wealthy, etc. But Ciel, along with Kyle Livingston, secretly ruled the English branch. Thann and Spencer, now facilitators, despite their reservations of their corrupt organizational rule, agreed to join them, and Ciel told them instead of hating the Illuminati, the brothers could change their insidiousness from the inside.

But Vincent cared not for human affairs, he was a cat. And despite the thunderstorm, he ventured out from behind the couch, now with a bigger and better prize, walked to the owl, snatched the bird in his jaws, and, even though it was much larger than the mouse, managed to squeeze and then yank its bloody corpse underneath the door with himself, took it in his mouth and walked nonchalantly down the hall, proudly.

* * *

In the morning, Sebastian found the damaged room. And was perplexed.

Standing in a pile of water with Tanaka, the sun's rays glittering the water's surface like diamonds, Sebastian tried to put the pieces together like a detective. He was good at many things. Things looked chaotic, but nothing seemed purposely or maliciously done, which confused him.

Ciel Phantomhive had many enemies, and if this was a message from one of them, this was sloppy, and he wagered it was perhaps merely the storm last night that had caused the damage to the room, quite a lot in fact. The Master will not be pleased when he found it. However, there _was_ blood in the room, mixed with the water that added a serious element to this happenstance. And with further investigation, the body of a dead mouse was found, then he and Tanaka found a brownish bird's father.

"A bird? The poor creature must have lost its bearing in the storm and crashed through the window, and judging by all this blood on the floor it bled profusely," Tanaka said. He looked at the bay window. "So, where is the body?"

"That is the question," Sebastian remarked, putting a curled finger to his chin thinking. He mused for a moment and believed he had an answer. "Now, if I were a cat, where would I hide my catch?"

"You believe Vincent took the bird?"

"An owl, to be precise. By the look of this feather, I would say a Tawny Owl. Approximately forty centimeters in length with a ninety centimeter wingspan and its weight is between 500-650 grams. And domesticated, taken care of by the robustness and beautification of this feather."

"You can tell all that by a feather?" Tanaka said dubiously.

"My dear Tanaka, I have been a well-received Ornithologist in my travels, among other things."

Tanaka nodded. "You have been around, Sebastian," he said off-handedly, looking around.

Sebastian smirked. "Indeed. So now the question begs itself…Where is Vincent, and what has be done with his _catch_?"

"_SEBASSSSSTINNNNNNNN!_" came a blood-curdling scream, so loud that it even startled the demon butler.

"That is Master Ciel!" Tanaka said, his spectacle-framed eyes wide with fear.

The butlers hurried upstairs to Ciel's bedchambers where Lukas and Renfrew were already inside, obviously closer to the scream…and Sebastian and Tanaka gasped at what they saw, horrified. Ciel was covered in blood, from his face to his legs, his clothes saturated in crimson red. His right eye closed, instinctive when anyone other than himself or those he knew of Sebastian's and the covenant. Tanaka was the only one who did not know of the demonic covenant. Although when they were in the tunnel that reached from the mansion's basement to the cemetery attempting to escape Mathu Kelvin at one point, Tanaka had revealed that he did know - whereas, Sebastian later erased his memory of it.

Ciel was trembling at the sight of all the blood, and with all due reason. Yet it wasn't his. Laying next to him was the dead owl, its feathery body covered in blood from the deathly cut it had sustained from crashing through the window of the study, Ciel's bedsheets stained with its life essence including his favorite pillow. The whole left side of Ciel's face was masked red.

And sitting in the corner, whisking his tail back and forth, almost curiously, was Vincent.

"My…_word!_" Tanaka said.

Ciel knelt in place with his arms out to his side widely gazing. "Who is responsible for this?" he demanded, finally regaining some composure. "Or need I have to ask?" He looked at Vincent.

"You've been very cold to him since his arrival, cousin," Renfrew said, whistling for the cat to come to him. Vincent did so, obviously unaware of the bad thing he had just done. "He gave you a peace offering."

Ciel angered. "A peace offering?! It's a bloody, dead owl! Look at me!"

Sebastian cleared his throat. "My lord, allow me to offer a plausible explanation to the cat's actions. Last night, this owl crashed through the window of the Study. Vincent obviously heard the disturbance and found the owl. A cat's instinct is to show off its catch, even if it is dead. As you have been _un-inviting_ to Vincent since his coming to stay here, my guess is he wished to offer it you it as a gift of thanks or of friendship."

"The Study? What is the damage? From the storm last night?" Ignoring the explanation.

"Yes, my lord. We just found it, in fact, Tanaka and I, and we will have it cleaned as soon as possible. Much was damaged, but all is salvageable. The room was open last night to the elements and much rain came in. I did not hear the crash, as I was inside reviewing the financial records in my quarters. But even I am curious as to _how_ Vincent got in, as I had locked the door…"

Ciel looked like he was about to explode with anger, he put a hand to his face in an attempt to compose. "He is a ghost cat, how he got in is obvious," he said.

"The body of a mouse was also found in the room," Sebastian added.

"Cats can squeeze into very small places," Renfrew explained, "even under doors."

Sebastian confirmed this, as he, being oblivious to everything else around him when cats were involved - utterly obsessed with them, even forgetting himself - could attest to.

"Calm down, brother," Lukas said. "No one was harmed. And your bedsheets and yourself can be washed. Don't blame the cat for doing what is natural to it. The dead owl will be removed."

Ciel nodded, taking a deep breath. For a moment, he thought the blood had come from his dream. He shook his head. Impossible. He said, "What I saw, and what the Inner Circle did to me does comes to mind."

"That is fully understandable, Brother," Lukas said with sympathy. "Seeing all this blood would frighten anyone and bring back terrible memories, when you were in that cage. We each have our own demons to battle, so to speak."

Ciel eyed Lukas, knowing there was more truth to his words than just that and everyone in the room knew so. Sebastian Michaelis was a demon masquerading as an apt butler, only Tanaka was unaware of this, and despite outward appearances as an employee, Sebastian also acted like a fatherly-figure, educating Ciel, and even though the world was a cruel place, forcing him to stand on his own two feet in the face of adversity, to bring him up in how to be a proper gentleman in English society much like father would.

Had that what the shadowy-figure meant by Sebastian was much more that Ciel was willing to admit? What Sebastian, inadvertently, becoming a surrogate father to him? Ciel banished that thought from his mind. A lone demon, an orphaned child. Both seemed perfect and complemented the other. But they were miles apart from each other, he knew. Vincent Phantomhive was his father, _not_ Sebastian Michaelis, the demon.

Aside from that, wrongs done _to_ a person or wrongs done _by_ a person, can create and continuously conjure up their own psychological demons that can haunt a person to their end of days. And the terrible things that had been done to Ciel and Lukas, even in their young lives, were enough to haunt them forever.

Sebastian picked up the owl, then noticed something attached to its right leg. It was very small, black and cylindrical, but hollow enough to hold something like very small piece of paper. He put down the owl, then unwrapped the string holding it to the birds leg, removing and unrolling the paper inside. "Master, this is a message-carrier owl. Like soldiers or _Falconers _use to send notes to and fro." Sebastian's eyes narrowed, as if confused. "Odd, it only says one thing: _VI_. Immediately, I think back to the Ancient Roman numerical representative for six."

Lukas gasped, then ran over to the butler. He looked at the paper in Sebastian's hands. "Number Six. That was my designation when I worked for Bryon Kelvin as an assassin."

"It could be a coincidence," Ciel said, with Tanaka helping him to undress and wash down. He rubbed his face with a wet towel to remove the blood, then did the same for other places where blood resided. "The message may also not be for you, but perhaps for someone else entirely."

"Perhaps, my lord," Sebastian mused. "Or the owl may have gotten lost and the storm was too much for it."

"Or someone is attempting to warn you in a way that only would be significant to you," Renfrew put in. "I've seen this before, a cryptic message sent to someone, so if it falls into the wrong hands, its undecipherable to them. Only the person it was meant for will know what it means. And if you immediately thought back to your times as Bryon Kelvin's assassin when you saw it, maybe it _is_ meant for you."

"You're assuming, Renny," Ciel said, looking at his cousin holding Vincent in his arms.

"No, my lord. Master Renfrew does have a valid point," Sebastian said. "And why would such an bird be all the way out here in the countryside on a night like this if not for such a message to be delivered? Perhaps the sender did not anticipate the heavy storm that would befall the poor animal and is awaiting a response that will never come because the owl is the only one who knows its origin. We have a mystery here."

Ciel sighed. "Very well. So how do we go about solving it?" Tanaka now dressing him.

"Only we know my true history," Lukas recalled. "Unless this is a message from Kelvin himself, knowing I live here now, he calling me _home_ to him, and this is _his_ way of telling me he is coming for me?"

"Why would he warn you?" Renfrew said. "He has many _minions_ at his deposal and his 'little assassins'. He could easily order them to come in the middle of the night and snatch you."

"Oh, thank you, Renny. Now I won't be able to sleep."

"Sorry, cousin. But I don't think this is a message from Bryon Kelvin, but I _do_ think this _is_ a warning, and from someone else, someone who must know you and where you now reside."

Lukas shook his head, then eyed Sebastian. He nodded, as if knowing exactly what Lukas was thinking. It was time for some more "mind therapy", to have Sebastian dwell deeper into his amnesiac past. Perhaps he could remember someone who would do this. But in his seven years with Bryon Kelvin, how many people had he _truly_ encountered or crossed paths with through his worldly travels as _Father's Assassin No.6_? He knew he would not be able to remember then all, although he was starting to remember many of the faces of the people he had killed. Sebastian had said because Lukas had a conscious, and he was feeling guilty about what he had done, that they would haunt him for awhile. And it would also pass in time.

"We will get to work on removing the blood from your sheets, my lord," Tanaka said, Ciel now fully dressed in proper attire for his age. "But as you know, blood is very difficult to remove."

"As long as you can save his favorite pillow, he'll be happy," Lukas said with a slightly-mocking smile.

Ciel eyed him with a hint of contempt. "Indeed."

**To be continued...**


	4. Betrayal

_"Et tu, Brute? (You too, Brutus?)"_

**William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 3 - "BETRAYAL"**_

There was no denying it. The English branch of the Illuminati had in recent weeks become dangerously divided in both ideology and philosophy by its members on how it should be run. Elite prominent members did not want change, but new policy was forcing such, and with its new head Kyle Livingston and the facilitators Thann Von Strauss and his younger brother Spencer Von Strauss pressing the issue, the members were rebelling like children. And they were all going to the _Enlightened Ones_, a new "cult" run by a man named _the Leader_. Who appeared to most to be some sort of religious figurehead, but used a proxy. Hence, no one had actually seen _the Leader_, as he hid in the shadows letting a man named Benjamin Vincent Royalek be its frontman, its clergyman. Its _almighty_ voice!

And a voice he had, subtext in his words, wanting to bring a new "change" within England, where _others_ had failed. Kyle didn't know much about the group that called the Inner Circle, only from what Ciel Phantomhive had told him, but the _Enlightened Ones _appeared to have the same philosophy, resurrecting this notion of usurping the British Crown for a more dominating, stronger power. However that will entail.

But Kyle also had insider information on who may be _the Leader_, and even the Phantomhive's had the same thought - Bryon Kelvin, the elusive man who has caused so much strife for Ciel and his family. It was also, but merely rumor, that Bryon Kelvin was involved, in someway, with the Inner Circle. After Ciel was captured by the Kidnapper of London whom Ciel concretely believes is Kelvin, although he never saw him with the others, who caged him, and then gave him over to the Inner Circle for their ceremonial sacrifices…for which Ciel escaped _somehow_; Kyle was never told how. Albeit whatever happened profoundly changed the boy to become more stern, to grow up very fast with his apt butler at his side, Sebastian Michaelis, who, in some ways acted like a fatherly-mentor of a sort to the boy, who was forever at his side, to guide him through this turbulent time of his life.

This exodus of most of the Illuminati members to the _Enlightened Ones,_ most certainly didn't sit well with Kyle Livingston. After the death of Wilhelm Lazarus, he became the new head of the Illuminati, as he had been Sub-Head to Lazarus. But apparently Lazarus had had a lot more supporters - even in his mental unstable state in attempting to use "dark magic" to resurrect his dead son, Johnny - than Kyle originally thought. And he had no idea that a great deal of them did not like Kyle.

Kyle, the son of the late Jeremiah Livingston who was owner of a large shipping import/export company ocean-liner, inherited it from him, and through him entered into the ranks of the Illuminati as a young man. Through his tenure, he rose the ranks to become Sub-Head. But now he was at risk of everything his father had worked for with _Funtom Co_. threatening to takeover his company through a subsidiary company that very few people knew about. Through acquaintance, he had learned of Ciel Phantomhive's intent to expand his own family fortune empire by entering in the import/exports trade with products from China. Products from China were vastly popular these days, especially medicinal herbs, and despite Queen Victoria's decree of its ban, opium, which is not only a recreational drug that causes addition of its use, but in ancient times was used for pain relief, and that is given, by permission, to a patient for long surgical procedures.

Kyle knew Ciel knew of a Chinaman named Lau who ran a few opium dens, but for information from time to time, because Ciel was the Queen's Watch Dog, he allowed Lau to stay in business, and for a cut. Ciel was loyal to the Crown, but he also had his _dark side_ and money was money. Yes, money was money, Kyle agreed, and he did not want Ciel Phantomhive to abscone with his family's business through hostage takeover. But he did not reveal to Ciel that he knew he knew and so far had used a great deal of his family's fortune to stop Ciel from taking over, but the money was quickly running out.

In the Illuminati's private headquarters in its main office of the head, Kyle brushed a hand against his brow as he sat at his desk, symbols of the Illuminati everywhere around him, a library of books filled the shelves. So many of the Illuminati members were leaving and going to the _Enlightened Ones_ that if the British Branch fell, he would be out of a job, and could no longer afford to fight back Ciel's takeover. The financial strain was already taking its toil, having to take his son out from college because he could not afford it any longer. His son, in his early twenties, was a former medical student that now helped him. Kevin hated Ciel Phantomhive with a passion, but promised to keep all information he knew to himself for the time being. But Kevin was frustrated, Kyle knew, and knew that Ciel Phantomhive was ruining their lives. Ciel partially financed the Illuminati, and if it fell, all funding will be pulled - and with reports given to Ciel lately, the boy was on the cusp of doing so.

But Kyle had a plan, an insurance policy. Or he liked to think he had. He didn't like it, but he was selling financial and personal information for money to the _Enlightened Ones _about the Phantomhive's. He had no choice, the money was the only thing that was keeping himself afloat. His son didn't know this, however, and he wanted to keep it this way.

Kevin bust through the door of the office, mad as hell. He was tall and lanky with wavy blonde hair, and he was very intelligent, sometimes too smart for his own good, Kyle thought. His son held a newspaper in his hand and then slammed it on the desk. He also had a bit of a temper. "He's done it again, Dad! He took another one!" Kevin said.

Kyle picked up the newspaper, his son had folded it so he could instantly read what his son was referring to. But Kevin paraphrased the article before he could read a single word.

"The East Indian Company with _Golem Traders _announced a partnership today," Kevin said. "Do you know what this means? Ciel Phantomhive just cost us another trading contract, our biggest one! _Golem Trading _is an subsidiary of _Funtom Co._, but scarcely people know." Kevin produced a letter from the East Indian Company, his son had opened it despite addressed to Kyle - it was a contract cancellation.

Kyle rolled his eyes when he read the cancellation in full. He sat back in his chair and fumed silently.

"Dad, he's partnering with all our traders, canceling our contracts, underbidding us, so he can get our company for next to nothing. No contracts, no business - we'll be forced to sell off our assets to cover any debts, and then he'll swoop in and buy up what's left for pitons! Tell him to stop!"

Kyle shook his head. "I can't, there's nothing we can do, son. He's doing everything legally."

"He's _your_ friend - "

"He's not my friend, he's an associate."

"An associate who's betraying you in _stealing_ our family business! And now with the Illuminati going under, he'll pull all its funding, and we'll be out on the street!"

"Calm down, son. I think it's time Ciel and I had a man-to-man talk about things. And the Illuminati won't be 'going under'. A large _consortium_ like the Illuminati has many assets and allies. There may be a mass exodus at the moment of its members to this…cultist group the _Enlightened Ones_, but things will come back in order soon. And I assure you, you will be able return to your medical studies."

Kevin folded his arms across his chest. "Not soon enough for me," he said scornfully. "I really hate Ciel Phantomhive. And I think its too late for talking, Dad. It's time for action." But before he could ask his son what he meant by that, Thann and Spencer Von Strauss walked in front of the open door. Kevin eyed them conspircially, as they were friends of Ciel Phantomhive. "Case in point, Dad," pointing to the brothers.

"Case in point?" Thann Von Strauss said, with narrowed eyes confused. "Have we come at a bad time?"

"Ciel Phantomhive bought the Von Strauss leather and meat business, owning 51%, correct?" Kevin clarified. Thann nodded. "He's now undermining _the Livingston Oceania Shipping Trading Company_, our company, underbidding for our contracts, trying to push us out of business."

"This is news to us," Spencer said, exchanging looks with Thann. "But Ciel helped us, we…didn't have a choice. Our father racked up so much debt, we had to sell most of our stock in the business. We owe Ciel a debt of gratitude for pulling us out of a hole. The company is thriving, however."

"I've been doing a little research on your company and I have a few friends who did me favors to get me the information from inside sources," Kevin said. "Do you know your father bet with stocks of your company, gambled away the Von Strauss leather and meat business empire - losing 49% of the business, whereas a mysterious, let's say, a shadowy-figure-esque person bought those stocks from your father's loan-sharks. Rumor has it, the man worked for _Funtom Co._" Thann and Spencer looked confused. "Don't you get it? Ciel Phantomhive owns your _entire_ family business now. You own nothing! He has deeds to all the shares. He tricked you into selling the rest of your company to _him_! He probably paid those loan-sharks to claim your father's debts were owed after his death. The Von Strauss leather and meat business _entirely_ belongs to _Funtom Co. _now."

"Kevin, how did you find this out?" Kyle said.

"Like I said, I have friends, and some of them are relatives of those now in the _Enlightened Ones_."

"I don't believe you," Thann said. "Ciel Phantomhive would not be so…_deceiving_. We have a meeting with him the day after next. We'll ask him if this is true."

"He'll deny it."

"Kevin, that will be all," his father said, putting authority into his voice. "I'll see you at home."

Kevin snorted angrily and then stormed off.

"I'm sorry. Kevin is mad because this issue with Ciel has caused him to drop out of medical school for the time being, no money. I don't think Ciel Phantomhive would do that to you," Kyle said. "Yet again, he _is_ doing it to me." He waved a hand to dismiss the issue at the moment. "What news of the Illuminati?"

"Three more resignations, I'm afraid," Thann reported. Thann was originally appointed by Ciel Phantomhive to be Sub-Head to the Illuminati, but when its members began leaving, he was reduced to just a facilitator like his brother, and the third facilitator left to join the _Enlightened Ones_.

"Who?" Kyle asked. Thann named them off and their elitist connections. When finished, Kyle sighed. "Very powerful people. Their leaving will hurt the Illuminati. You should inform Ciel when you see him."

"I hear the _Enlightened Ones _were already around, that they are a separate branch to us," Spencer said. "Only when the new policies were implemented did we see a massive exodus to them and now they rival us. Can we do anything about it?"

"I'm afraid not, and members know it; they are the elite, expose them and we destroy the entire fabric of English society. The conspiracial implements will be huge," Kyle said. "Sadly, a majority of them mock you two and myself for being stooges to our puppet master, Ciel Phantomhive."

"We are _not_ stooges to Ciel Phantomhive and he is not our puppet master," Thann said strongly. "He's helped usin so many ways." But a moment of thought gave him pause. "But I will look into what your son has claimed about Ciel. Frankly, it does not seem like Ciel to do such a thing after everything we've been through together."

"Business is business, money is money. The rich walk over the corpses of the poor, that's how it is, that's how it will _always_ be."

"I am still chief executor officer, Spencer is chief financial officer, of our company," Thann said. "We know Ciel is the real money behind the company, which is thriving now, but Ciel keeps us up-to-date on all records…"

Kyle nodded. "Listen to what you just said, Thann: _Ciel is the real money behind the company_. I don't know if what my son said is true, but from my standpoint, I think Ciel swindled you too, regardless." There was a certain amount of bitterness in his voice, he knew. "Whether you had a choice or not, he is the _money behind the Illuminati_ as well, and if and when he loses interest in it, well…"

"Are you saying Ciel may be purposely confounding things - but for what reason?" Thann said. He shook his head. "No, I will not dabble in conspiracy theories."

"A true businessman is ruthless, a sociopath; albeit they may act strong, they are merciless. And it is _always_ personal, no matter what they say; they are driven by success. Always."

Thann nodded. "Our father was a ruthless man, continuously driven to succeed, to climb the social latter. With the Illuminati, he had the power he craved, but it was never enough for him."

"I agree," Spencer said. "And he chastised _me_, ousted me. Called _me_ weak, and a disappointment."

Thann put a comforting hand on Spencer's shoulder. They had been through a lot lately, and not everything Kyle knew about, but lately Thann had a fond respect for his little brother since their father had died. And Thann had made a complete personality change. He was kinder and caring, a far cry of what he used to be when he was following in his father's footsteps.

They returned back on topic. "Do we know anything about this _Leader_ person?" Thann asked.

Kyle shook his head. "But apparently funds _are_ circulating from a variety of sources to the _Enlightened Ones_, this _Leader_ is formidable and influential, but uses his proxy to make his declarations - this Benjamin Vincent Royalek, who seems to have come out of nowhere two and a half years ago. No one knows who he is or anything of his background, but _the Leader_ has complete faith in him. Frankly, I don't think former Illuminati members know what they're getting in to. I think the _Enlighten Ones _are a fanatical cult."

"Like the Inner Circle," Thann said. "Lazarus told me everything about them, that they were a thin branch of the Illuminati when I was the Illuminati's envoy. The Inner Circle broke away from the Illuminati to conduct sacrifices to demonic entities to gain otherworldly knowledge - Yes, I know…so did the Illuminati, and I regret ever participating in them. But the Inner Circle were worse, using children as sacrifices, one of whom would have been Ciel Phantomhive. And they _bought_ him from a person known as _Father_, whom Ciel Phantomhive has identified as Bryon Kelvin. But he's dead, of a staff infection years prior during a medical procedure. And yet, children continue to go missing even now…"

"Some of the former members of the Illuminati have had children gone missing," Kyle said. "They have never turned up. There is even rumor that Bryon Kelvin - _Father_ - may still be alive and continues to kidnap children for his own ends."

"I have heard that rumor as well," Thann said. "But to date, there is no evidence to prove it. Ciel is also of this notion, and has vowed to find and punish Bryon Kelvin for transgressions against his family."

"I can understand Ciel's vow. I knew Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Social butterflies, some called them. They enjoyed to throw parties, but were not arrogant in their ways. Vincent Phantomhive even gave to charity, sponsoring orphanages, as there were and still are, quite a few orphans and homeless children in England. Vincent was a humanitarian, despite certain rumors of his other enterprises and affiliations. But he was a man with a hand in everything, as does Ciel now. I find it odd that Ciel and Lukas are of different personality traits. Ciel once a shy and kind kid, now turned ruthless and selfish. Lukas once a killer and merciless, now turned kind and caring. Much like you Thann, unlike your father before you."

Thann nodded. "I saw the error of my ways. But events did transpire to help me to realize it." He smiled at Spencer. "We received a second chance in life, for which many people don't, and we both owe our lives to Ciel Phantomhive. So, I am skeptical about your son's words about the boy."

"Believe what you wish, but I assure you, I will have a talk, with strong words, with Ciel about what he is doing to my company," Kyle said.

"Maybe, he doesn't know? He can't have a hold on everyone who works under the _Funtom Co. _label," Thann said. "Ciel once told me he learned of an unscrupulous Italian man who was in charge of his toy factory in India, who sold it off under his nose and fired all the workers, then this man attempted to swindle another 10,000 pounds from him. Perhaps, this is the case? That an associate is doing this without Ciel's knowledge, but _is_ doing it for the best interest of _Funtom Co_. I'm sure if you explain this to Ciel, he'd look into it. If this is the case, I'm sure it will stop immediately."

This gave Kyle food for thought. Was he wrong about Ciel? Could all this simply be a mistake? _I'll telephone the Phantomhive mansion after this meeting and clarify things with Ciel_.

It was another half-an-hour later before their meeting ended and all Illuminati business was settled. Thann and Spencer then left his office. Kyle then, through a Switchboard, was connected to the Phantomhive telephone line - PH1. It rang six times before someone picked up. With a large mansion, it takes time to get to the telephone. The concept of voice-to-voice communication over a small wire over long distances was still a relatively new method and only a well-to-do person or the extremely wealthy had it, due to its overwhelming cost to install. But it saved a lot of time when messages needed to be send quickly.

"_The Phantomhive mansion, Tanaka speaking. How many I help you?_"

"Tanaka, the butler, right?"

"_Yes sir, and this is…Mr. Livingston, I presume? Your voice is familiar to me._"

"Yes, that's correct. Is Ciel available, I wish to speak with him on a business matter."

"_I am sorry, Mr. Livingston, but he is, at present, rather engaged. May I take a message?_"

"What is he doing?"

There was a pause. "_I will not minst words, Mr. Livingston, he is taking a bath._"

Livingston withheld a chuckle. "Very well, please have him call me at extension ILL03 when he is free."

"_I will give him the message, sir,_" Tanaka said.

The telephone call ended, and Kyle put down the receiver as he sat at his desk. Almost immediately, another "guest" arrived. Since Kevin had burst through his office door earlier, it had not been able to lock. Security had become very relaxed in the building the Illuminati held their operations in the downtown core recently as well. How did this person get in? The person stood in the hallway at the threshold of the door. He wore a long, dark cloak with a hood covering his head and face.

"_Misssssssssss…ter, Livingssssssssston_," the person spoke, emphasizing the letter "s", much like a snake. "You are _Misssssssssss…ter, Livingssssssssston_?"

"Who may I say you are? And how did you get into _here_?"

"I am a person of many attributes - says Earl," his "s" emphasizes' toned down.

"Earl? Who is Earl? Is your name Earl? Earl…who?"

The mysterious cloaked figured walked into the office, took a few steps towards the desk and stood pointedly at Kyle. His face was completely in shadow, but he wore black gloves and black boots from what Kyle could see, but that was the only thing he could see of the man, the rest shrouded. But Kyle also noticed the man wasn't incredibly tall, in fact he looked just under six feet and less than average height.

Suddenly he heard hissing from underneath the man's cloak. "What is that noise?" Kyle demanded.

"Nothing to concern yourself with," the person said. "But I do have a message from a mutual acquaintance." And with the lightning swift flick of a wrist, a snake came jettisoning out of the person's cloak sleeve and wrapped around Kyle's throat. Kyle grabbed at the snake as it coiled around his throat and head, squeezing his head like a vice, putting pressure against his skull. And he couldn't breath.

The serpent's body wrapped around everywhere but Kyle's eyes so he could see the man as he pulled back his hood. He had white hair and a greenish scaling skin tone, like a freak from some circus troupe. He leaned in closer. Kyle's eyes bulged. The man said, "_Father_ says to say '_Thank you_', and to say good-bye."

The last thing Kyle heard was the crack of his vertebrae as the snake broke his neck and caved in his skull.

* * *

The assassin, a young man in his late teens, simply known as Snake to those who knew him, stood over Kyle Livingston's crumbled body, now laying behind his desk. The dead man's skin was blue, his face contorted in aghast and horror with his eyes wide open. Blood streamed from the corners of each eye socket, his nose and the right side of his mouth as well. The simple field snake, also known as a Gardner Snake, used to murder the head of the Illuminati returned to its master side, then slithered back up into the cloak, concealing itself in darkness, coiled around his upper body like a belt. Snake felt a kinship with it.

He had accomplished the mission that _Father_ had given him, now it was time to return back to report. He left the secret headquarters of the Illuminati and back out into the street, from whence he came. No one would find Kyle Livingston's body for sometime. But before he was able to enter a dark adjacent narrow alleyway, a voice called out: "Snake, your mission is a success?" a strong male voice demanded.

Snake knew that voice, and he turned to see a young man with dark hair in an dark Italian suit. His name was Haas…_something_, some German last name he could neither pronounce nor fully remember, and he was the assistant to the man called Royalek, _the "k" is silent_, as some said. He felt his snake's uneasiness when it came to this man, there was something _wrong_ with him. Animals and reptiles were prone to sensing things that humans could not, it was part of their survival instinct - and Snake could _feel_ it too. By outward appearance Haas looked normal, but the man _smelled wrong_. He smelled like…ash, burnt ash.

"Yes, that is correct. Kyle Livingston of the Illuminati is dead, as per ordered," Snake reported, facing Haas. "May I return back to the others now? This smog-filled city air is bad for my snakes."

"Snakes enjoy dank-filled environments," Haas said smirking. "I thought you'd be right at home in the city." He chuckled slightly. He took a step towards Snake, but quickly stopped. _Earl _hissed aggressively beneath Snake's cloak. "Your snake doesn't appear to like me, I wonder why."

"You are…_different_," Snake revealed.

"We are _both_ different, in one way or another," Haas said.

"Agreed - says Earl," Snake said. "But you are _not_ like me."

"You have different names for your snakes, I see. You only brought _Earl_ with you on this mission. You have a unique talent, snake-charmer. I can see why _Father_ took interest in you and the others to form the circus troupe. How many pet snakes do you have?"

"They are not _pets_, they are companions. We are the same."

"Of course." Haas left it at that. "_Thank you_ for accomplishing your mission, Snake," he then said. "Kyle Livingston's contribution to the _Enlightened Ones_ was helpful, indeed."

"You promised him money for helping you dismantle this Illuminati cult branch, _Father_ told me," Snake said. "You had no intention of paying him such, for which is why I was sent to kill him."

"Does that bother you?"

"I am of no side or the other, I do what _Father_ requests. I am one of his children. Nothing more."

"Good. You may leave now."

Snake turned, and walked into the alley without any further acknowledgement of the other, but he did have a very bad _feeling_ something terrible was about to happen. That was not his concern, however. But safely secured within the darkness of the alley, he did turn back to look at the man called Haas, who was now accompanied by other men with canisters in their hands and other things.

"Burn it!" Haas ordered the others. "Burn the building to the ground!"

And soon the building used for the secret meetings by the Illuminati cult was set ablaze.

**To be continued…**


	5. Reflection

_"It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it." _** - ARISTOTLE**

_**CHAPTER FOUR - "REFLECTION"**_

Even though Ciel had washed and dressed in the morning after he had been exposed to the owl's blood, he later felt extremely dirty. He felt subconscious that the owl's blood that had saturated himself and the bed sheets was still on him clawing at his skin underneath his cloths and in his hair despite no outward appearances of such. So he decided a bath was in order and did so with Sebastian in tow, ordering the apt butler to scrub him down with soap from head to toe. Afterwards, he felt extremely fresh and cleansed.

In his personal bathroom adjacent to his sleeping quarters, Sebastian rubbed Ciel down, drying him off with a large towel. In no way bashful of his nakedness in front of the butler, Ciel let the demon do so, tazzling his dark hair dry. The butler had mentioned more than once that Ciel was in need of a hair cut, but Ciel waved it off. Besides, on his right side he wore a black eye patch that hid the covenant between he and the demon and his hair half covered the patch. The covenant was a promise that he would later give the demon his soul in exchange for Sebastian's help in wrecking revenge on those who committed the atrocity of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive's - Ciel's parents' - demise. So far, only a few had fallen.

Suddenly, as Ciel often worded it - _that damn cat_ - entered the bathroom via the closed door, entering as a ghost, then turned solid. It was remarkable that Vincent, Renfrew's cat, named _before_ Vincent Phantomhive was even born, had this ability. While it was unique, it was also quite annoying. The cat would appear anywhere it pleased, without notice. And lately, it often _found _Ciel, wherever he was. Oddly enough, Vincent was also the only cat that Sebastian _didn't like_ so much, unlike other felines in his presence.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Ciel demanded. Vincent sat down on the cool marble floor and meowed. "I swear, Sebastian, this cat may not trigger my allergies, but it does trigger _something else_."

"I can sympathize, my lord. I have never met a more incommodious feline. _Shoo_, _Vincent_!" Sebastian ordered. "Go find, Master Renfrew." But the cat refused to heed to Sebastian's demand.

"Can't you just scare it away? Place some kind of suggestion in its mind to stay away from me?"

Sebastian smirked. "Not much of a social butterfly, are my lord. The cat is merely attempting to be friends with you. Animals can sense a disliking of a human towards them, so some try harder. _Cas au point_."

"_Case in point_," Ciel said, translating from French. Ciel eyed the cat. "Annoying," he said.

"Determination," Sebastian said. "Vincent has a strong sense of self, any suggestion I attempt to insert inside his mind would be swept away. And he is a ghost, and I am afraid, you will just have to _vivre avec elle_."

Ciel snorted frustration. "_Live with it._ Yes Sebastian, I know due to my bath I am missing my French lesson today. Tanaka has stepped in for you and is teaching Lukas and Renfrew at the present."

"I am merely attempting to be the educator for my student, my lord." Sebastian smiled. "In high society, French is a very important language to be versed in, you know much, but more is _magnifique_."

"_Magnificent, or better_," Ciel translated. He rolled his eyes. Simple stuff. He began to dress, feeling very refreshed. "_Bien joué. Tu as fait un boulot formidable._" (Well done. You did a magnificent job.) The words were flatly said, without true thank you to his servant. He merely wanted to convey that he was indeed fluent in French as a person in his social standing should be, and to prove Sebastian wrong.

Sebastian smiled. "Merci, my lord."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the telephone rang again. It took Tanaka six rings to answer it. When he did, and heard what the other had to say on the other end, his eyes widened in belief and with shock.

* * *

Later in the evening, the Phantomhive's returned back to the mansion after surveying the damage done by the fire to a seemingly normal business run building in the downtown core.

Fire fighters were quick to arrive at the scene, but even they were too late to truly save the interior and the one person that had been trapped inside and had burned to death in the fire. But they did determine there was some form of an accelerant that started and continued to make the fire burn very intensely. Which meant arson. Ciel actually owned the building, but through subsidiary firms, that was remained hidden. Insurance however would cover the fire damage.

The building housed the secret meeting headquarters of the Illuminati, but all traces of it, including banners, symbols and other had either been removed or burned, leaving no trace. Which begged the supposition that this fire may have been pre-mediated and the arsonists knew exactly what they were targeting. Kevin Livingston identified that the one body found in the building was his father, but did not reveal why his father may have been inside or that the building the secret housing of the Illuminati.

Scotland Yard continued to investigate.

The days that followed heeded no clues to who may have killed Kyle Livingston, which Scotland Yard never said but that was most likely the case ,and then set the building around him ablaze. News traveled fast, and the London Gazette had a full story about it - comparing it, albeit to no where near as bad as the fire that engulfed London in the year 1666. But it could have been if fire fighters weren't so quickly at the scene. The English Branch of the Illuminati was effectively shutdown. The arsonist's had accomplished their mission, which drew immediate attention to the _Enlightened Ones_, in Ciel's opinion. Who else would want the Illuminati obliterated, as they were a threat. And of course, Kevin Livingston pointed the finger at Ciel, after it was revealed in heated discourse during the last couple of days of the attempt at a possible hostile takeover of the _Livingston Oceania Shipping Trading Company_, for which Ciel denied.

"You are a horrible person, Ciel Phantomhive!" Kevin had said during their discourse. "And I hope you die an even crueler death than that that befell my father!"

Ciel knew that he would when Sebastian gobbled up his soul, but he stayed resolute to the threat. Sebastian had remained at his side during Kevin's heated words, not necessarily as his protection but as support. Ciel felt absolute hatred in Kelvin Livingston not only by his words but also by his body language, fist-pumped hands and an aggressive posture. Sebastian, if Kevin dared attack Ciel in anger, would take him down. But the young, former medical student did not do so. Instead, he stormed off in a huff.

Afterwards, Ciel said, "See into the _Livingston Oceania Shipping Trading Company_, Sebastian."

"There is no need, my lord," the butler said. "Kevin Livingston is essentially correct. Through subsidiary companies, the _Funtom Company _has acquired a great many contracts once belonging to the _Livingston Oceania Shipping Trading Company_, including most recently from the _East Indian Trading Company_, the largest. Each is in the financial records, I was reviewing them last night."

"If I didn't think you couldn't sink lower, brother…you continue to surprise me," Lukas said.

Ciel shook his head. "I honestly do not have any knowledge of this, it must have come about recently. I do not have time to read every piece of mail that crosses my desk, that is what I have Sebastian for. And Kyle Livingston was a friend. I would not sneak behind his back to put him out of business, even if it meant to elevate my company. Sebastian, look into the details of this latest acquisition."

"Yes, my lord. And I am sorry. I only managed to get to a few unopened letters late last night, and one of them was the acquisition of this newest contract and cancellation of that of the Livingston's contract."

* * *

One night later, a cool briskness blew through the countryside. Lukas Phantomhive's hair fluttered as he gazed longingly at the clear night sky lost in thought. He stood in the back courtyard in total darkness, the stars the only illumination.

Ciel had already gone to bed as it was late and despite the last couple of days in dealing with the Illuminati fire and Kevin Livingston's hostile nature towards Ciel, this day passed relatively uneventful. But in Lukas's mind his thoughts raced erupting worry about the owl's cryptic message on days prior.

The Illuminati was not his concern, Ciel could worry about that and the death of Kyle Livingston. Lukas had had his own worries and he wondered who had sent that message on the leg of the owl.

Sebastian's "mind readings" as he referred to them now - Sebastian entering his mind at night as Lukas slept to retrieve more amnesic memories of Father/Bryon Kelvin and his assassin past - would not work if he couldn't sleep, and he couldn't this night. So he decided to in attempt ease his mind went outside to reflect and do some breathing exercises that he had most recently been neglectful in doing. It was something instinctive he had done when he was Kelvin's assassin, and something his _trainer_ as taught him to clear his mind of frustration before, during and after missions.

_An easy mind is a clear mind_, he told himself. _Push the anger away, clarify your goal, ease your thoughts._ There was also some mantra that his trainer used to say that helped him, but he could not remember it.

He sat down cross-legged in the grass and took in deep breaths, smelling the fresh air, taking in the world around him with a feel of serenity without the hustle of modern aggravation. Very little sound could be heard in his surroundings. He was not afraid of the nocturnal animals that came out at this time, he knew how to protect himself. On his missions, he was specially trained for such, having to live on his own for sometimes weeks at a time, as he stalked his prey as…

_Assassin Number Six._

This was his designation under Kelvin's employ as one of his assassins. And he had been given the task of murdering the entire group of men Vincent Phantomhive - Lukas's real father - that Kelvin called "The Aristocrats of Evil", because - or, at the time he was told, they implored questionable methods to get things done that normal society would not officially do. But it was a lie. The real reason for Kelvin's hatred of them was because they would not allow Kelvin to join their little group who prided themselves on superficial facades and vanity, to boil it down to. Kelvin was "plain faced" and old. Vincent's group of friends were the opposite. And the embodiment of beautification.

In a bitter way, he kind of sympathized with Kelvin in this regard. From what Tanaka had told him, Ciel had been born "beautiful" from the start, while despite being fraternal twins, Lukas has been born with a "plain face". While normal twins were identical, fraternal twins were born different and did _not_ look like the other. Hence, due to Lukas's "ugliness", he was slated to undergo facial surgery to make him beautiful. His father's vanity was as superficially "ugly". But Kelvin faked Lukas's death, lying that he died on the operating table, and did the plastic surgery on his face anyway to look _exactly_ like Ciel to one day replace him in a hidden agenda, trained him to be a killer in the meantime. While the last seven years was mostly a blur, to be so easily cast aside by his parents for how he looked felt verydistressing. And why at this moment did he feel a sense of "thankfulness" towards Kelvin for giving him a chance at life whereas his parents did not give a second thought to chopping his face up to look like someone he was not?

Lukas put a hand to his face. The only difference between him and his brother now was Ciel wore an eye patch over his right eye to hid the demonic covenant between he and Sebastian, and Lukas had a noticeable scar that bisected through his left eyebrow, down his left eye but not hindering his vision, and further down cheek; he received when his bedroom window exploded inward, his face hit by flying glass, during an artillery attack on the mansion by the twin brother killers known as Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt. They were now dead. The brothers once working for Kelvin as "collectors of children" for the Child Kidnapper of London, for which was yet another moniker for Bryon Kelvin's sadistic and demented personality. With Kelvin's nephew Mathu Kelvin, they later became possessed by _Fallen Reapers _and wrecked havoc before Sebastian was able to terminate them.

Vincent Phantomhive had also been a member of the Inner Circle for which Kelvin and his nephew Mathu had been members, but later cancelled his own membership sighting "differences in opinion", due to their plans to usurp the Queen and to install a new governmental body. This from what Tanaka had recalled Vincent had told him. Vincent was the Queen's "Watch Dog" and he would not have any part in their plans. Vincent was also a member of the Illuminati up until his death, but attended little of their meetings, and did not participate in any rituals. He was merely a benefactor and financial backer. All social elites were members of this illustrious "club", for which now the English branch was defunked.

Now after Kyle Livingston's death, and with the English branch effectively shutdown, Ciel pulled all his funding from it. However, he insisted on a private investigation into Kyle's suspicious death. He suspected someone from the Enlightened Ones, but he no suspects to speak of yet.

Lukas knew Byron Kelvin had his filthy hands in everything from the Inner Circle to the Illuminati and now the Enlightened Ones, but there was still some conjecture, however certain Ciel was, whether Kelvin had killed Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Kelvin _did_ send his "little assassins" for a sinister purpose and Lukas was a part of his plans back then, brainwashed to do "Father/Kelvin's" bidding, to set fire to the mansion. But what really happened that night to his parents? How did they _really_ die?

Guilt washed over him like a dark fog, but no matter how much he thought about it, how much he rolled it around in his mind, depression never settled in, it was like he _knew_ he was not responsible. And if he wasn't, then Sebastian still needed to dwell deeper into his subconscious to plunk out why.

But indirectly he _was_ responsible for his brother's affliction, the Faustian covenant between Ciel and Sebastian. For if it wasn't for that night, almost three years prior that destroyed the original Phantomhive mansion, things would not have been set in motive that will ultimately cost Ciel his soul to a demon.

And then there was also the threat that Sebastian will do the same to him and Renny. They had no contract with Sebastian, and demons often had one-track minds. However, _that_ threat was furthest from his mind at the moment. And even so, there would be nothing to prevent it.

He heard a soft rustling behind him. Vincent suddenly appeared and meowed pleasantly. He patted his leg and the ghost cat became to rub his chin against Lukas's leg in affection. Animals had an instinctive knowledge of when they felt something was wrong with someone they cared for. Lukas had wanted solitude, but he picked up Vincent and held the cat in his arms anyway, stroking his fur. The cat had become solid so he could do so. He thought it was fascinating that the Phantomhive's now had a ghost cat as a pet and he considered it ironic that it was the only feline that Sebastian didn't much care for because he appeared more "playful" than any other cat Sebastian had ever known.

"_An annoying little thing_," he often said. Lukas chuckled.

As he began to pet Vincent, the cat began to purr in delight and the stress Lukas felt began to melt away. What was it with animals that helped humans relax? Was it there ever caring nature? There nonchalant attitude? They certainly did not have the worries of humans. Or did humans just believe that no matter what was happening in their lives, there was _always_ someone who cared about them, and that animals loved them unconditionally. He knew now why Vincent found Renny after all these years, because even in death the pair loved each other as they had in life.

"I don't know why it is, Vincent, but even though I am now with family, I still feel that isolation I felt when I was an assassin under Bryon Kelvin's influence. To say, a great deal of my past is still missing." Lukas sighed. "While I wonder, do I truly wish to know the killings I committed? Ignorance is bliss." Speaking about his worries actually made him feel a little better. "The owl's message scares me."

"Why sir?"

Lukas turned startled as Sebastian suddenly appeared behind him like a ghost in the night. Lukas's heart raced. Vincent jumped off him startled. Sebastian had also managed to sneak up on Vincent.

"Please don't do that, Sebastian," Lukas said. "You frightened me."

"Forgive me, sir. I didn't mean to frighten. Neither did I mean to intrude on your moment of reflection. But please, do not fret about your past. You are with family now. And remember the order your brother gave me in the beginning when you first came to us, that I was to protect you at all costs."

"I hope that vow extends to Renny now?"

"I am indeed indebted to protect all of you as members of the Phantomhive family."

"Good."

Vincent's head perked up, his ears twitched to something that Lukas was not privy to. Then a call for him sounded from the mansion. "_Vinnnceennnnnt…_"

It was Renny's voice. He was standing on the back porch in only his night shirt, his hands around his mouth. He made another call. "_Vinnnceennnnnt…_"

"My word, Master Renfrew will catch his death of cold," Sebastian said.

Vincent ran towards Renny, jumping into his arms. Lukas smiled. They were indeed inseparable. Renny then turned to re-enter the mansion as if not noticing the two of them.

Lukas's smile quickly vanished and melancholy filled him. Sebastian appeared in tune to the emotional change as Lukas sighed sadly.

"Master Lukas, do not fret. Your brother's past has indeed made his heart cold, but I assure you, he is _warming-up _to you and Master Renfrew." Lukas nodded. Sebastian continued. "I think you should return back to the mansion as well. The temperature is dropping and you do not have a coat."

Lukas nodded and stood. And it was time to get some sleep, if he could. His moment of reflection, albeit short, had eased his mind.

"Can I ask you something, Sebastian?" Lukas said, walking back to the mansion with the butler.

"You can ask me anything you wish, my lord," Sebastian said.

"Do you think the owl's message was a warning or a threat to me?"

"Hard to say. But I will keep on guard in case it is the latter."

When they arrived at Lukas's quarters, Sebastian helped Lukas dress into his bed clothes and tucked Lukas into bed with his stuffed Bitter Rabbit toy that he had taken to sleeping with. Lukas didn't mind the fatherly fuss by Sebastian. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He never truly knew his parents and their love, so Sebastian acting like a father to him was welcome.

"Shall we continue on working in the retrieving more lost memories tonight, Master Lukas?"

"Not tonight, Sebastian." Lukas yawned. "I think I'll give it a rest for the time being."

"Very good, sir."

Over the past year, Sebastian had recovered a lot of memories from Lukas's subconscious brought on my an a powerfully induced amnesia by Father/Bryon Kelvin. Some memories he was amazed about and other memories he would rather have stayed forgotten. But when he agreed to allow Sebastian to dwell into his mind to help him recover his lost past, he had been told that there may be things he would not like revealed, and Lukas accepted this.

"Thank you, Sebastian," Lukas said, as the butler rolled the sheets up. Bitter Rabbit also tucked under the covers with him.

"My pleasure, sir. I endeavor to serve."

"At first when I came here, I believed in doing everything myself, even tucking myself in but…"

"You were trained in self-reliance, my lord, as you have continuously attempted to convey to Master Ciel to do the same, with limited success, I may add."

"Indeed. But I have come to rely more on your help these days, Sebastian."

"I may _be_ the family butler, sir, and a demon, who prays on the souls of humans." A very thin smile broached his face. "But I am not averse nor devoid of compassion of others in need of it. While the Phantomhive's are strong in will, it is often forgotten you are still merely children."

Lukas snorted a laugh. "And you _too_ know the feeling of having a family destroyed by another."

"Indeed. My history is just as tragic. My wife, my friends…are all dead. But my son's Braydon and Brandon are now Reapers, for which I am proud of. I am a demon, but I was once human. I can feel pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, but I normally reserve myself to expressing much of it publicly."

"And your third son Decco…"

Sebastian nodded. "I do not regret killing him. He was a great threat to myself and to you all. And if left _unchallenged_, he may have destroyed the entire human race. And that would be truly tragic, for we demons relay on human souls to sustain our life force."

"You said you sent him back thousands of years into the past to ancient Pompeii, to the very point where the volcano Vesuvius was erupting, to where you first became a demon. Do you think he is buried there along with others under ash and debris?"

"I removed his powers, so I have no doubt he is dead. I know it may sound cold, but he was a threat and he had to be destroyed. He can not harm any of you anymore."

"We believed this of Mathu Kelvin when you sent him to Hell, but he came back."

"Indeed. But certain circumstances dictated his return. He also left without incident on his return."

"Do you believe he may be an ally now?"

"I believe he serves his own agenda when he isn't obliging Morning Star. He is much stronger with demon powers then when he was with the powers of a Fallen Reaper. I believe this plays into his hands. Mathu Kelvin was already a very arrogant man, but now he thinks he is _better_, so a neutrality will establish any visitation to the human realm. He _must _obey Morning Star now."

Lukas nodded. "We all must obey a _master_," he said philosophically. "None of us is truly free."

"A very astute observation, Master Lukas. But it is how someone perceives the world around them that determines how much freedom a person has. A human with a positive outlook such as yourself can see the beauty and happiness in the world, and this opens up a great deal of possibilities. Your brother, however, sees the world in a darkly sense, which closes off many doorways to his future."

"But you are Ciel's future, Sebastian. After you help eliminate all his enemies, you will devour Ciel's soul. What future is that?"

"That was the choice your brother made freely. Freedom of choice can be a hammer in a coffin to some. I offered him a choice, death by the members of the Inner Circle or life with me." Sebastian smiled thinly. "Albeit short or long, it all depends on how many enemies your brother truly has who plotted against your parents. Even I do not know them all."

"If you had another soul, would you cancel the contract with my brother?"

"A contract is a contract, Master Lukas," Sebastian said. "And your brother, I _believe_ is a human of his word."

Lukas nodded. "He would not recant on an honorable contract, I know. And neither would I."

"I canceled _our_ contract after the Fallen Reapers were defeated because I informed you it was merely temporary."

"But you took some of my soul regardless," Lukas said. "I felt the 'emptiness' of it afterwards."

"That was apart of our contract at the time," Sebastian said. "But unlike Master Ciel, you soul was tasteless. Filled with goodness." A look of foulness broached the butler's face. "Your brother's soul, on the other hand, is filled with a darkness and a bitterness that is a delicacy to any demon's appetite."

"But what, if so happen, my brother developed amnesia like myself and forgot all his bitterness and revenge, would then his soul be 'tasteless' to you?"

Sebastian looked at him with a curious stare. "Sorry, Master Lukas. Even if Master Ciel lost all his memories, his soul would still remember. You see, a human _soul_ remembers everything in a person's life even if they forget. With _your_ soul, when you murdered all those people as Bryon Kelvin's assassin, you didn't do it of your own violation, so your soul was not tainted with darkness. You still have a good soul."

"And that's why it is tasteless to you?"

"Correct. A person must enter the _darkness_ of his own will for his soul to be appetizing to a demon, or it is not worth pursuing. So you and Master Renfrew are _safe_."

"I'm not sure whether to be pleased with that or be insulted." Lukas smirked. "Good night, Sebastian." Lukas turned on his side and closed his eyes, he hugged his stuffed toy.

"Pleasant dreams, sir."

Lukas heard Sebastian then leave his quarters and shut the door. There had to be a way to save his brother from a fate worse than death, but how could he do such a thing? How could he convince Sebastian that devouring Ciel's soul would be unappetizing?

But he would leave that for another day. It was time for him to get some sleep.

**To be continued…**


	6. Watchful Eye

_"Conscience is the inner voice that warns us somebody is looking." _**- H.L. Mencken**

_**CHAPTER FIVE - "WATCHFUL EYE"**_

Off the downtown core of the city, Detective Frederick Abberline's modest town home had a cozy looking feeling to it when Brandon stood on the front walkway to the front door. Unfortunately the detective wasn't home at present, his brother Braydon had just recently informed him of this. Abberline was off on a homicide investigation with his boss Sir Arthur Randall, the head of Scotland Yard. Being elsewhere didn't concern Brandon, but he _did_ need to speak with the detective on a matter of importance.

He reached into a small leather satchel he carried with him and pulled out a small crystalline cube device he brought from _Reaperdum_, then called upon its power to locate Abberline's exact location. It projected a small light _fanbeam_ that he used to watch the detective's actions and location. Abberline was in the White Chapel district, gathering information on a murder that had recently just happened in a dark alley. No suspects yet, but the man who was killed was homeless. This was the same district just last year that Jack the Reaper committed his murders on helpless prostitutes that some claimed still have not been idealistically solved, and that Jack the Reaper, despite no more prostitutes have been brutally and gruesomely murdered, that Scotland Yard, despite an in depth investigation and dozens of suspects, the killer has eluded them and is in hiding.

Brandon Smythe knew the truth. And the case _was_ closed. The person responsible was dead and her _soul_ was collected by a Reaper. Oddly enough, a Reaper did help in the murders, but was severely disciplined for his participation. Ciel Phantomhive's aunt was "Jack the Reaper" and she blamed her actions on simple jealousy, against those women who abandoned their motherly duty and aborted their children. Madam Red, as some called her, lost her baby and husband, and later could not had children, after a terrible horse and carriage accident. Hence, an insanity arose inside her when she witnessed the atrocity of what some prostitutes were doing, aborting their unborn fetus's to continue to whore themselves out to paying strangers. She was stopped by Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel's apt demon butler, and betrayed by her own Reaper partner when she refused to murder her own nephew, Ciel, after her actions were found out.

Grell Sutcliffe killed Madam Red with his _deathscythe_. He was then taken out by the Head of Reaper Affairs William T. Spears who decided to impede when Grell had finally gone too far. Reapers are not to get involved in human affairs. Although in the last year that _rule_ has been exceedingly stretched to its limits with the recent Fallen Reaper and demon attacks on the human plane.

Brandon turned to leave, when the door to the town home suddenly opened. Abberline's fiancée stepped out from inside dressed in a coat and hat. He turned, stood momentarily shocked on the spot, but then composed himself as she looked at him. He did not expect to meet up with her outside the presence of Frederick Abberline.

"May I help you?" she asked.

Brandon cleared his throat. "Forgive me, I must have come to the wrong address," he lied, turned to leave.

"May I ask, is everything all right?"

He turned back. "Yes, it is. Why do you ask?"

"You appear to be dressed like an undertaker. Has someone died?"

Brandon looked himself over. Yes, he indeed looked like Salem dressed all in black. He had changed out of his Royal Guard's red uniform because he knew it would look out-of-place in London. So he opted for a typical Reaper-style suit. He went with her assumption. "Excuse my attire, I am indeed an undertaker. An apprentice in fact. I was told to seek out someone on these block of homes. I seem to be lost. I will go."

"No, please. If I can be of help…" she started to say. "My name is Maria. Of whom are you seeking?" Her eyes widened slightly, and Brandon immediately felt a little apprehension from her to ask if it was her husband that he sought. But just as quickly, that apprehension faded. It would not be _he_ that would seek her out to tell her that Frederick Abberline was dead, but one of his co-workers. And Abberline was not dead. "I have heard the elderly woman down the street is gravely ill. Jezebel Walker."

He didn't commit. She was a detective's wife. And she may have learned a few tricks from her husband to pry information out of people in deceit. And he didn't know anything about this Jezebel Walker. So if he said yes and she was tricking him, it would get back to Abberline and his mission would immediately be a failure. His mission of importance involving Frederick Abberline. However he didn't sense any deception from her about this Jezebel Walker.

"May you direct me to her residence," he said.

"I can take you there," she said.

He was reluctant. Jezebel Walker was _not_ the human he had come for, but he went along all the same. He followed Maria to the woman's modest home, a town home much like the Abberline's, obviously owned by the woman's children of modest or of well-means.

Maria knocked on the door, and almost immediately the door swung open. "Hello?" a young maid said. Then the woman recognized Maria. "Maria, how happy it is to see you again." Maria explained she was good friends with the family and had often come to talk and check up on Jezebel Walker.

"As I am to see you too, Jenny," Maria said. "How is Jezebel?"

The maid frowned. "Not good, I am afraid." The maid, Jenny, welcomed them inside.

"This is…I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Brandon Smythe," he said to Maria, then turned to the maid, "I am a mortician, an undertaker's apprentice," he fibbed. "Maria here has told me about Jezebel. I also have medical training," he lied again. But he was curious how bad the woman's illness was. "May I see her, if I could?"

"Of course," the maid said, closing the door. "My mistress and her husband are upstairs in Jezebel's room. The doctor says he can not do anything for her. I will escort you there. They will be happy for another doctor's opinion."

Jenny did so, and she announced them. The room was lavishly décor'ed. And there was Jezebel, an old woman with long silver hair, laying in a bed in the middle of the large room under a comforter; her daughter and husband on either side. Brandon immediately sized up that the woman would not survive the night, the room smelled of death.

Jezebel was resting when Brandon visually examined her. She had cancer and it was ravaging her body like a vicious virus. The woman had to be in her 70's, the average expectancy for human's these days. But with all the diseases that ran rampant through the streets, the unsanitary conditions in London, the smog, the pollution from the uprising of the Industrial Revolution, even human-on-human death, he was curious she had survived this long. She was _lucky_.

He touched her forehead and read her entire history from birth to now. He had this power, trained by other Reapers, to instantly read the minds of humans if need be to gather information. When he was a simple Reaper, he had files to tell him a human's history on mission to retrieve their soul for processing.

Jezebel Walker was in so much pain, he could tell. The medication her doctor prescribed was masking the pain as best it could, but her clammy, sweat skin told him it was a losing battle. There were _Reaper_ treatments to cure her, but he was not authorized to use them. In _Reaperdum_, disease didn't exist and every disease had a cure and a prevention. But he was a Reaper by trade, not a healer. He _could_ take away her cancer with a thought. His demon powers alone could cure her, but he was simply _not allowed_, and this hurt him. He had compassion for humans, he wasn't cold.

But even if he couldn't take her cancer away, he could make her comfortable. The cancer will kill her tonight no matter what, but in her last few hours she will feel no pain. It only took a thought. And when he did this, Jezebal's face seemed to ease and a calmness engulfed her body. He felt she was _without_ pain now. There was no _rule_ against this, a Reaper will eventually collect her soul. But to ease her suffering was his gift to a woman throughout her years had helped so many _others_, her own compassion and kindness giving others joy and happiness. And so, Jezebel Walker deserved this _peace_ at the end of her life.

_Thank you,_ _you may rest now_, he said inside her mind. And a hint of a smile broached her face.

Lisa Walker, her daughter, gasped. "Did…did my mother just smile?" she asked, looking at Brandon. "What did you do?"

"I eased her pain," Brandon said. He lifted his hand. "As I said, I am a mortician. On my hand, most assuredly, as I deal with many chemicals to preserve bodies - forgive the imaginary - I use these chemicals to help relax the muscles that harden during rigormitous, a state in which the body is stiff like a board. When I touched her head, the chemicals seeped into her skin and _relaxed_ the cancer that is destroying her body. She is in no pain now, I assure you. Unfortunately, I can not do anything about her fate."

Lisa Walker's eyes teared up, but she was happy.

Her husband consoled her, hugging her. "Thank you," he said to Brandon.

He looked at the couple, merely nodded his head. Saying "Your welcome" wasn't the right thing to say. He went to leave, but stopped at the door. Suddenly he felt a strange presence in the room. He turned back and saw another Reaper in the room, only he could see him. A young, thin Reaper in the usual black attire with light, brushy hair. He held a file folder in his hand.

Sadly, he underestimated Jezebel's time of death, she was to die sooner than he thought?

Outside, he thanked Maria and they parted ways, telling her a lie that, yes, Jezebel Walker was in fact the person he had come to see and that he had been lost and confused, being an undertaker's apprentice, not knowing the area well.

He knew where to find Frederick Abberline, but just in case he opted to check his device once more in case the detective had departed the murder scene when he found himself alone.

In that instant alone, the young Reaper appeared to him having finished his mission.

"Sir, I have collected one soul: Mrs. Jezebel Walker," the young Reaper said. With Brandon's promotion to his uncle's Royal Guard, all the other Reapers, except for William T. Spears, had to report to a superior after their mission, and as he was there, this Reaper must have thought to report to him.

"Very good, but I did not expect her to die so soon," Brandon said.

"William ordered me to stand near as the woman died. She had very little fight in her. You eased her transition to the afterlife sooner rather than later."

"That was not my intention. I wished only to ease her pain."

Brandon took the file from the young Reaper and read the latest entry. _Died of Natural Causes_, it said. So Jezebel Walker quickly fell into a restful coma and died quickly soon after he relieved her pain. While he didn't regret what he had done, would he be chastised later by William for his actions? Technically, it wasn't against any _rule_ he was aware of, but could it constitute interfering in a the natural order of things that he caused a human's death sooner rather than later. No, he would not apologize.

He passed the file folder back. "William wants a report from you about the incident," the Reaper said.

"A report?" Brandon looked up into the sky as if looking into _Reaperdum_ itself. He could feel the Head of Reaper Affairs looking down on him through his "secret" Looking Glass receptacle. He smirked confidently. He returned his attention to the young Reaper. "Tell William, no such report will be submitted. There's no need. He can file a grievance if he wishes. Reapers are go-betweens, he knows this. We _assist_ humans to make the transition from life into death easier. I took away the woman's pain. I _assisted_ her. That is all."

The young Reaper looked as if he was about to protest, but quickly held back. He nodded. "Yes sir," he said. "I will inform William of your decision not to file a report."

"I said there's no _need_," Brandon quickly corrected the Reaper. "Before you go, what's your name."

"Tobias, sir. Tobias…" He stopped.

"What is your surname?"

Tobias swallowed nervously. "I was ordered not to say, sir," he said.

"By whom?"

"I can not say that either, sir. I am sorry."

"You _do_ know who I am, do you know not?"

Tobias straightened at attention. "I do, sir. You are Brandon Smythe, Co-Captain of the Reaper Royal Guard with your twin brother, Braydon. You directly work under the newly elected First Prime of the High Council of _Reaperdum_, Altima. You call him Uncle because of your long-standing history. You are the son of a demon currently known as Sebastian Michealis who is presently residing as butler to the Phantomhive household under a Faustian covenant, he has with the young boy Ciel Phantomhive. You are quarter demon, you also had a younger brother named Decco who threatened to -"

Brandon stopped him with a raise hand. "That's enough. Thank you for the history lesson. Tell me, how does a low-level Reaper obtain such high-level information on me?"

Tobias swallowed nervously again. This time he knew better than to lie. "I was ordered to watch over you on the human plain, sir. My orders came from William."

"So, William thought to _spy_ on me, did he?"

"Your actions with Jezebel Walker were _apart_ from my watching. As I was in the area, ordered to originally collect her soul, given the proper file to do so, and after showing her her cinematic record, sir, as per orders given to me, I am to stick by you wherever you go."

Brandon smiled amused. He could file a former complaint to his uncle about William, and why Tobias refused to give his surname, but there was no need, and with the recent back-long in paperwork, it would do no good and take too long for a response. And besides, this young Reaper could come in handy. If William was watching him, then it would distract his attention from _other_ things. Namely the mission employed by his uncle using the Reaper Ronald Knox to _hunt down_ Bryon Kelvin. A mission that went against everything _ruly_ in _Reaperdum_.

He would _amuse_ William for the time being.

"Very well, Reaper Tobias. You will come with me."

"May I ask about your purpose here, sir?"

"You will just have to wait and see…"

* * *

Altima sat at his desk in the First Prime office and watched the image cube on his desk that projected the scene outside the residence of the recently deceased woman named Jezebel Walker. It had sound, too. Simply put, Brandon was being watched. Braydon stood beside Altima watching the scene unfold with his brother and a young Reaper named Tobias, who refused to give his surname to Brandon.

_"I was ordered to watch over you on the human plain, sir. My orders came from William."_

_"So, William thought to _spy_ on me, did he?"_

_"Your actions with Jezebel Walker were apart from my watching. As I was in the area, ordered to originally collect her soul, given the proper file to do so, and after showing her her cinematic record, sir, as per orders given to me, I am to stick by you wherever you go."_

_Brandon smiled. "Very well, Reaper Tobias. You will come with me."_

_"May I ask about your purpose here, sir?"_

_"You will just have to wait and see…"_

The image faded as the pair walked away from the immediate area, and Altima leaned back in his chair. Brandon snapped his fingers and a file immediately materialized from thin air. He opened the folder and read a portion of its contents before speaking.

"Tobias (no surname given), is a low-grade Reaper who has recently graduated from the Reaper academy. No missions to speak of, watching Brandon is seemingly his first, albeit it is not logged in his file."

"So, William to watching _me_, so to speak. To keep tabs on my goings-on through Brandon," Altima surmised. "He thinks he can see what I'm up-to by spying on us. But Brandon's 'secret' mission is merely a shadow to the real one, the one Ronald Knox is on. I am curious, why is no surname given for this Reaper?" Braydon handed Altima the file folder. There was a picture, but very little information on him.

"I will find out," Braydon said. "It is improper to have an incomplete personalle file..." His voice trailed off as he looked inward, his eyes gazing over when he sensed something disturbing from his brother. It was a "danger sense" that he and Brandon had developed over years from being twins. They would almost read the other's mind. And Something - _someone_ _else _- besides William T. Spears was watching Brandon.

"What is it?" Altima asked.

"Danger," Braydon said, momentarily looking at the projection cube on Altima's desk. "Brandon is in grave danger…"

* * *

Brandon suddenly felt a strange _presence_ runabout them as Tobias and he scrolled down the street, making their way towards the inner core of the city. They could just wink-out/wink-in to where Detective Frederick Abberline was at present, but then he would have to explain to his young accompanying Reaper why Brandon was interested in following the human detective. If Tobias knew _everything_ about Brandon, then he would - obviously William had told him - that Brandon and the detective had encountered each other before during the _Decco Affair_, as Altima, his uncle referred to it, at the Phantomhive estate. But he wasn't about to reveal that. And besides, his father had erased the detective of all memory of it after-the-fact.

At the moment, however, this _presence_ Brandon felt following them made him uneasy. It was a strong _presence_ of pure raw energy that only a demon or an angelic being would possess. But he eliminated angels because this was sinister in nature. So why was a demon following them? And it was _not_ his father.

"Do you sense it, too, sir?" Tobias asked, nervously looking around. "It's following us closely."

"The demon, you mean," Brandon revealed. "Yes, I feel him, too. But I only sense him _watching_ us."

"As long as he is only _watching_, I am fine with that."

"Are you afraid of demons, Reaper Tobias?"

"I have never encountered one, but I am educated on their evil nature."

"Not _all_ are evil, Reaper. Demons are like children, it's how they are educated that determines their nature."

"Like you, sir. You are quarter-demon, but you are a sensible man. Not nasty or sinister in the slightest."

Brandon withheld a smirk. "My father is of his own accord, and I accept my bloodline, but I have a feeling my mother had a very strong influence on my upbringing that even _educated_ my father, as well."

"Your human mother? How sir?"

"The nature of love, Reaper. Sometimes it changes a man's instinctive nature."

"So your father changed…and helped hinder you and your brother's instinctive demonic nature? How?"

"Over the years, our father challenged himself to see how long it would take for him to give in to his cravings among his _journey's_ with humans, three years is his record best," Brandon said, while walking and continued to watch the demon with his mind's eye. "When he met our mother and Braydon and I were in our mother's womb, our father secretly collected nourishment for us. But he delivered it to slowly, so that we did not crave human soul energy like a hungry animal does food. Thus our cravings were considerably lessened after we were born. And he continued secretly to feed us nourishment during our upbringing. And now, with Ambrosia, a fruit that grows on trees in _Reaperdum_, one bite eliminates all craving for human soul energy. Without it, I do not know what would happen, and I do not wish to think about it." He padded his satchel, he had brought Ambrosia with him.

"You would fall back to your demon instinct, I would surmise. Decco must have been an exception."

Brandon nodded. Decco, his late-younger brother, had been a very power demon. Even with his brother's secret feeding sessions, it was later surmised that the energy their father collected only gave Decco a deeper craving for human souls. Thus, it was determined that Decco had to die or he would kill them all. But Decco had figured this out even before birth, and in revenge murdered their mother after child birth. Their father and Bryan, their manservant at the time, who was later revealed to be Altima, a Fallen Reaper, that was possessing Bryan's body _willfully_, tried to kill and bury Decco's infant body. But Morning Star, unknowing at the time, snatched Decco and gave him to Belial, his second lieutenant to train, whisking him from their father, not knowing the terror Decco would later become to threat the very fires of Hell itself.

But their father later killed Decco by sending him back through time to a place without escape.

"You're very perspective," Brandon said. And then it struck him and he stopped short, and gasped. This _presence_ he was feeling… "No, it can't be!"

"What is it, sir? What do you sense?" Tobias frantically asked.

Brandon snapped around, looking in every direction. And suddenly they were both grabbed by two large clawful hands and yanked into a dark alley.

**To be continued…**


	7. The Insane Root of Reason

_"The insane root, that takes the reason prisoner," William Shakespeare._

**_CHAPTER SIX: "THE INSANE ROOT OF REASON"_**

William T. Spears gazed into his _Looking Glass _receptacle, and he was displeased at what he saw.

Brandon Smythe, co-Captain to the newly established Royal Reaper Guard with twin brother, nephew to the new First Prime of the Reaper Council, was in the human realm, and he apparently had a hidden agenda. What this agenda was, William didn't know. He didn't like being kept in the dark, especially when his Reapers were involved.

He had witnessed Brandon Smythe depart _Reaperdum_ and had a _loyal_ Reaper follow him.

He never intended for Tobias and Brandon to ever meet, but the old woman's death had inadvertently complicated things and now the pair were working together in a _scheme_ only Altima and his nephews knew. But through his _Looking Glass_, he will keep appraised of the developments.

But William was never without information. He was the Head of Reaper Affairs and had spies everywhere. Whatever his Looking Glass didn't see, other _eyes_ did. And it did not escape him the adventure that Ronald Knox was involved with, Altima didn't want William to be aware of. The Reaper was attempting to infiltrate the _Enlightened Ones_ cult. Why, William did not know. Yet. But he would be watching both Reapers with a close eye with split-vision context.

In the blink of an eye, Brandon and Tobias disappeared. One moment they were walking and talking down a cobbled street, Brandon's answers elusive to Tobias's questions about the mission he was on. They were swept, grabbed into an alley way by a monstrous claw. William felt a cold, sinister presence there. Whatever Brandon's mission was, it was compromised, and something had his Reapers.

He marched out of his private lair where his _Looking Glass _resided, and a few minutes later entered the main lobby to the First Prime's office. The secretary was sitting at a glass desk, and walked past her. He heard her say something about the First Prime was busy and did not want to be disturbed, but he ignored her.

He opened the glass, tinted doors that did not show in, but did see everything outward, and barged into the office. Altima was seated at his desk, Braydon was standing at his side. They were both watching something on a crystalline viewing cube that projected a vision of something William needed to be closer to see. Altima looked up, and immediately shut down the cube with a slam of his hand on its top.

"What's the meaning of this, William?" Altima demanded. "Courtesy to announce oneself is proper to enter a superior's office."

"With all due respect, sir, I do _not_, like being kept in the dark about Reaper affairs. Namely your nephew's secret mission in the human realm." He eyed Braydon with disdain for a moment. The impertinent youth eyed him equally. "And _he_ and my Reaper assigned to watch him were just absconded by some _creature_ down in the human realm."

"You have been spying on my nephew?" Altima asked. "How devious of you, William."

William didn't deviate from his focus. "I keep watch of the Reapers under my authority. _Every_ Reaper is under _my_ authority, even if they work directly under you."

"I don't like your tone, William. But I will allow it to slide for now."

"Why is Brandon Smythe down in the human realm?"

"Why did you send one of your employees to spy on my nephew?" Altima demanded.

"To insure quality assurance, First Prime," William said. "I have begun to implement a new policy. I have submitted an application to you for approval. That a "buddy system" will be enforced. Hence, each Reaper will have a partner whenever he or she undertakes a mission or task. This is to ensure if there is an incident, a lone Reaper should not have to deal with it alone."

Altima mused momentary, rapping his fingers on his desk. "It is good idea, in theory. But is it cost-effective? You have voiced complaints about your employees being overworked lately."

"It is still in the works. It will take time to be ironed out and it is still in the experimental stage. With Tobias, I wished for your nephew to remain save," he lied. "My intention was for Tobias to remain in the shadows, but your nephew acted out-of-turn by suppressing the natural order of things when he removed that old woman's pain, thus causing her to die sooner rather than later. I ordered Tobias to collect her soul, as he was there. Now _both_ are missing."

"We reviewed the incident," Altima said, "and we'll act accordingly."

Braydon had his eyes closed and appeared to be mediating, or rather searching. He and Brandon had what could be called a psychic-bond as they there twins. "I do not feel him, uncle. He is not conscious." He opened his eyes. "But I do feel that he and Tobias are in a _cold place_ that I can not pinpoint."

Altima nodded. "Very well." He eyed William. "Another issue is afforded here, William, and it is in regards to your Reaper, Tobias. Why is his file incomplete?"

William's eyes narrowed, then he adjusted his spectacles. He knew eventually Tobias's personelle file would be questioned. Just not this quickly.

"I did it, sir," William admitted. "To protect you."

"To protect _me_? Explain."

"When you were in contention to become _First Prime_, I thought it prudent to change his file. He was just beginning his training as a Reaper. And Tobias agreed that the change would be for the best. If ever your enemies learned of his true lineage, it may put you both in danger, and could destroy your chances of being elected."

"Go on. Tell me how you _saved_ me," Altima said sardonically. "How _you_ won me the election."

William stood straight like a board. "He is the illegitimate son of Vincent Phantomhive. A cousin of Ciel Phantomhive, if you will. He died recently from pneumonia, but he did not know his lineage to the Phantomhive's until it was revealed to him in his cinematic record. With all the _chaos_ in recent months involving the Phantomhive's and Sebastian Michaelis, I thought keeping him close to the breast would be best. And with _your _recent activities with the Phantomhive's and Sebastian Michealis, a demon, yet another Phantomhive into the fold, and its _issues,_ would complicate things for the election. Even I believed a change was due, that the corruption of the old High Council was becoming too much. I wished for a smooth transition."

Altima put a hand to his chin. "Well now, Vincent Phantomhive has an illegitimate son, does he?" He looked to his nephew, Braydon smirked amused. "Why does that not surprise me."

"I do not even believe evenVincent Phantomhive knew, sir. In a drunkard state one night during his younger years, he and a young woman had sexual relations. The result, Quinton Jonathan Anderson was born nine months later. His mother died a week later from a stomach illness and Quinton was put up for adoption. He was adopted by a family of good means. A review of Vincent Phantomhive's cinematic record confirmed this one night stand."

Altima nodded. "Even if the mind does not remember an event, the soul has a complete record," he said.

"Correct. I also took the liberty to review cinematic records of very Phantomhive since these _incidents _with the Phantomhive's and our Reapers began, cross-referencing them with historical records, including the origin of the Hope Diamond and how it has cursed the Phantomhive's for all this time."

"Do tell, William." Altima smiled.

William cleared his throat. He told Altima the whole story, of how a distant relative of the Phantomhive's made the family fortune from gold found in the mountains of Peru, and then how a bitter relative who hated his family and wished them all death, after paying for the Hope Diamond to be smuggled out of Revolutionary France, cut chips off the diamond and sent pieces to each family member as gifts. As the story went, due to the diamond's past and all those who possessed it, the Hope Diamond was said to be cursed. Since then, all but Ciel Phantomhive were known to have perished under mysterious and horrible circumstances. That, until Lukas Phantomhive came along, and he now, too, had a small piece of the Hope Diamond, wearing it in a ring on his right pinky finger. In truth, Ciel Phantomhive, also cursed, was saved by a demon, who in servitude to the boy, will one day collect on the debt of the young boy's soul after he eliminates Ciel's enemies, including the man said to be at the heart of his parents' deaths, Bryon Kelvin.

"Every one has a story," Braydon remarked. "The Phantomhive's are no different. Although, some are much more interesting than others."

"Indeed," Altima said. "Not even I knew this information about the Phantomhive's, it's quite a remarkable story. A Pauper to Prince story."

"Do you fear for the Phantomhive's, First Prime?" William said.

Altima eyed him curiously. The question appeared to catch the First Prime off guard. "Why do you ask such a question?"

"You are close to the family. I wager without them and Sebastian Michaelis, you would still be wandering aimlessly as a _Fallen Reaper_. I would also pose that you are willing to repay any debt, no matter the cost."

"Your tone is that of snake's hiss, William. Nevertheless, I do owe a debt of gratitude to them."

"So you would do _almost _anything to keep them safe?"

Altima gave a quick glance to Braydon. Brandon met the First Prime's glance. This told William all he needed to know. Brandon Smythe was on a mission for Altima. And if their reactions indicated such, hunting down Bryon Kelvin. Which, was against Reaper policy. If this news was ever found out, Altima could be removed from office. But it was only conjecture at this point.

"You ask inappropriate questions, William. Take your leave."

William repressed a smirk, he knew his logic was correct. "Yes sir," he said respectfully, and then turned to leave the First Prime's office. But then stopped. "One more thing, sir." He turned back. "I respectfully ask that Reaper Ronald Knox return to _Reaperdum_. I have a mission for him and we are already short-handed."

Altima's eyes narrowly widened. Braydon gasped. Obviously they believed he didn't know about Ronald Knox leaving _Reaperdum_ either. "Judging by your nephew's reaction, you believed I would not know about Knox's departure from _Reaperdum, _too. I am the Head of Reaper Affairs, gentleman. I see all and know all, respectfully. May I ask what Knox's mission is, if _you_ don't mind?"

Altima sneered. "He is working on a personal mission for me, William. That is all you need to know. Your audaciousness knows no bound, Spears."

"I prefer to call it a _job well done, _sir_._"

* * *

Rain teetered down heavily in the city. A young boy sat with his knees bent up to his chest, in a narrow alleyway holding his head in pain. He wasn't huddling for warmth, but tears streamed down his cheeks, the rain washing them away almost instantly as rain saturated his body and matted his hair.

You will serve me, and only me - come home child, obey my demand.

A sinister voice inside his head ordered, but the boy cried out, refusing to obey. But every time he did, the pain would get worse.

"No, stop it!" he cried out. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" he shouted back at the disembodied voice.

Flashes of people he didn't know, couldn't remember - entered his mind. Smiling faces of a mother and father and a sister. His vision took him back inside his memories, he was seated in front of a round wooden table in a kitchen surrounding, looking down at a cake with ten lit candles on it. They beckoned him to blow out the candles.

"_Jared, blow out the candles_," his sister said, calling him by a name he didn't recognize. "_Then we can have some cake!_"

Was Jared his name? No, he was _No.3_! One of _Father's_ children!

This other man - his father in this vision, he recalled - worked for a wealthy booking company, and his woman, his mother, was a stay-at-home mother. His sister was seven year old. Money was plentiful, but they spent modestly. He remembered they wanted a future of their children, and in this day and age, you can have money one moment and be poor the next. The house they lived in was modest but large.

He blow out the candles -

- and suddenly he heard a crash.

Men broke into the house from the back, and began ransacking it, beating down his mother, father, and holding back his sister. _Jared_ wasathletic student in school, he had joined a wrestling club, and tried to fight them off…but they were too strong, and he was merely child of ten years old. One man dressed in black grabbed him, and he had to watch his family be beaten and murdered by these intruders. They then knocked _him_ unconscious.

The next thing he knew, he was seated in a chair in some sort of laboratory, the room stank with antiseptic cleanliness, the walls a gleaming white, his wrists and legs locked in clasps, as a man in a wheelchair, his head completely bandaged, rolled into view by another man, a tall man with glasses, in a lab coat.

"_He will do nicely, Doctor. Prepare him for assimilation," the bandaged man said. "He will be my new Number Three._"

"_He's stronger than the others taken, sir, the drugs have had less of an effect on him,_" the Doctor retorted.

_"Then increase his dosage," the bandaged man ordered. "I will not be denied a perfect soldier like him. You did say you were working on an even stronger drug to inhabit free will, did you not?"_

_"Yes sir, and Number Eight is my experimental model. There have been no complications."_

_"Have him trained, tell Marik to make this boy his pet project at the moment."_

_The bandaged man then reached out and cupped No.3's face. "Don't be afraid, my child. You will not be harmed. You will become my son, for now on…"_

He then remembered doing stuff…hurting people that he didn't want to. He remembered he felt like he was watching from afar in someone else's body, his free will suppressed. Drugs were continuously pumped into his body to make him obey _Father_.

And most recently, he had fought in an arena of death, and had killed another boy, snapping his neck.

You will serve me, and only me - come home child, obey my demand.

He screamed into the darkness, refusing the call! He no wanted to harm anyone. He had been doing it for nearly two and half years.

"My _son_…"

A sudden, soft voice snapped him out of his dark, painful reverie. He snapped his attention, his tearful eyes gleaming what little light, hazing his vision, as he gazed through the darkness at a shadow of a man standing at the edge of the alley, his silhouette glowing, angelically from a street lamp.

"Why are you so troubled, my boy?" the shadow asked.

The shadowed man began to approach, and instinctively No.3 jumped to his feet and backed up a step. His first instinct was to stand his ground, to fight. It was a part of his training. Be he refused the urge to attack. In the field as an assassin if ever he was discovered, seen by someone, he was ordered to kill them to remain anonymous and secretive. As all his missions were secret.

But he was not on a mission now, he was hurt. He was in pain, like a wounded dog. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He just wanted the pain to go away.

And something about this shadowy man gave him fear.

No.3 took another frightful step back. The shadowy man continued to approach unknown that at any moment No.3 could strike him down and kill him with his training. Then the shadowy man's face began to become more clear as No.3's eyes got used to the dark, with a sudden glow of a unknown light in the sky. The rain had softened and clouds had separated to reveal light from the moon.

The shadowy man wore all black attire and a white collar, he was tall and had short but thick hair, black. He was a priest. "Don't be afraid, my son. I heard your cries from the street. I will not harm you."

"That's…that's what _He_ said…" No.3 said, remembered what Father's had turned him into. He grimaced, his head hurt. "Who…are…you?" he demanded.

The priest stopped at a safe distance. He smiled. "My name is Father Joseph Mennon. You have been crying, my son. Your eyes are bloodshot with dark circles, you are in great pain…_Jared_."

No.3 gasped at the name. "How do you know…?"

"Your name? Or should I call you Number Three, your assassin designation?"

No.3 grimaced once more. When he tried to remember who _Jared_ was, he felt pain. When he recalled No.3, the pain subsided slightly. "Number 3...is my name. Again, who are you?" he demanded. He posed into a defensive posture, this man knew too much. _He should die, _No.3 thought.

"I am a man with a special gift, and a friend. I am member of a special group of people. I can hear the voices, too. But I can shut them out. These voices shout inside your head like demonic screams. I can quiet them. The man whom you call _Father_ is an imposter. He is your enemy."

"Father is not my _enemy_!"

"No? Look at what he has done to you, child. Imprisoned you inside your own body."

No.3 shook his head, and then grabbed his head with both hands. He screamed in horrible pain.

Father Mennon lurged forward and grabbed No.3's head, literally clutching it at the sides forcefully. "Be gone, demons! Silence your voices inside this child's head. God, be one with this child!"

Suddenly the pain was gone inside his head, lifted like a weight off his shoulders, and he collapsed like piece of string to the ground, but still conscious.

Father Mennon released him.

"What…have you done…to me?" he demanded.

Father Mennon stood over him, something the priest did made No.3's body listless and he could not move. "It's not what I have _done_, my child. It's what I will _do_. I will bring you peace. I am a servant to _Him_, and now…you are _too_."

**To be continued…**


	8. A Meeting Of The Minds

_**CHAPTER SEVEN "A MEETING OF THE MINDS"**_

"Do you mean this _Father_, _the Child Kidnapper of London _and _Bryon Kelvin_ are all the same?" Thann said shocked, a few hours later when he and Spencer arrived at the Phantomhive mansion for a private meeting. "And now _he_ has control of the _Enlightened Ones_ and the support of England's elitists?"

"It would appear so," Ciel said. He took a sip of his tea as he sat behind his Study desk. Thann, Spencer, Lukas, Renfrew and Sebastian, were all gathered within Ciel's now refurnished office after the terrible damage the storm had done to it only days earlier. Sebastian was quick to revamp it, but it was basically the same with all the same furnishings. They sat on couches. "However, this may provide _us_ with an advantage," Ciel further said, as he put his cup down. Sebastian stood next to him at the desk.

"How so?" Lukas asked. "In fact, this may give Bryon Kelvin even _more_ protection. It will be harder for us to get through his defenses. Rumors have surfaced he's surrounded by tough defenders and assassins."

"But these rumors are merely that, conjecture in fact. But if you say you have recalled even more information from your time with Bryon, the time for us to cautious has ended. If and when Bryon comes for us, we must be ready with our own _army_."

Lukas purposely eyed Sebastian, and Sebastian flashed a quick smirk. When the Fallen Reapers attacked the mansion, all it took was Sebastian to destroy them. _An army of one_. But, if Bryon did have an _army of assassins_, as Lukas recalled his designation _Number Six_, there were more than just _he_. And Bryon could order an assassin to attempt a killing of any one of them at any time. Night or day, if the assassins were trained by his old trainer, Sebastian may no be able to stop them all.

"Think about it, Lukas," Ciel spoke pointedly. "Bryon is the man of vanity. If he is still undergoing surgery for his _imperfections_, then he will not appear in public. However, he will, in some capacity, attempt to attend whatever proceedings he wishes his _underlings_ to partake in secret."

Lukas nodded. "Right. So all we need to do is follow one of his underlings and find Kelvin," he said, "a pre-emptive strike?"

"No, we gather information first," Ciel corrected.

"Where, is the question, my lord," Sebastian said. "Can we risk following one of those recently involved in the Illuminati to this new gathering place of the Enlightened Ones? And even so, I would assume there are tight security forces barring any unauthorized person."

"That is why we need a spy on the inside." Ciel looked to Renfrew.

Renfrew's eyes widened. "_Whaaat_? Me? Are you forgetting cousin that everyone there especially those who were close to Wilhelm Lazarus will recognize me as Johnny Lazarus?"

Ciel smiled thinly. "Correct. And that is exactly why _you_ are best for this infiltration. Wilhelm Lazarus was called insane to foolishly believe he could resurrect his son with black magic. No one believed him. What if he _actually_ succeeded, but it was kept a secret? Barring the demon Decco did it."

"Just think this over, brother," Lukas said. "What you are proposing is having Renfrew act as Johnny Lazarus to infiltrate the Enlightened Ones. What you are neglecting is verification of his identity. If my face can be altered, anyone's can be with the right expert or physician. They will be highly suspicious."

"The Doctor you spoke of, would others possess such a skill to alter a person's face with such perfection like yours?"

"I wouldn't call it perfection, but I am sure there may be others out there."

Ciel tilted his head slightly. "Explain 'I wouldn't call it perfection', Lukas?" he demanded.

"Don't be vain, brother. At one point we may have appeared identical, but your eye patch and the scar over my left eye clearly separates our _likeable_ appearance now. We are _fraternal brothers_, and we were never identical in the twin-sense, we are now _alike_ physically_,_ but even so, there are still strong differences."

This seemed to irk Ciel. "Blood is blood, Lukas," he said. "My eye patch and your scar are testaments to our devotion to our family. The Phantomhive's _fight_ for what we want, and we win. _That_ is the most important thing, and I will _not_ lose to Bryon Kelvin. This is the closest we have come to capturing him and evoking a terrible revenge upon for his transgressions against our family! It's time we end it!"

"So you wish to send Renny into the lion's den?"

"Not unprepared." He took a quick sip of his tea. "Johnny Lazarus's mother is still alive. A mother's verification is all we need. Once we have that, then we can proceed. It will be a step-by-step process."

"I believe I understand what cousin Ciel is asking," Renfrew said. "I haven't lived for over 150 years without deciphering the true meaning of a person's intent." Thann and Spencer were told of Renfrew's true origin and were fine with it. Once a ghost, but now possessing Johnny Lazarus's body. So what he said about living for over 150 years despite having the body of a ten year old wasn't lost on them. "After Helen Lazarus verifies _me_ - Johnny - as her reborn son, I will be _re-introduced _to some of Lazarus's peers?"

"Precisely," Ciel said. "You will act, sound, walk, talk and _be_ Johnny Lazarus to infiltration the cult."

"It's too dangerous," Thann said. "Some of the Illuminati members disliked Wilhelm Lazarus. They will become suspicious, believing Johnny Lazarus or a look alike has entered the fray to obtain power under his father's name, as per House Rules, like the Crown of England, the first born becomes successor. They will attempt to kill him, as some Illuminati members were known to harbor instability and lust for power. Renfrew will be in grave danger."

"I agree," Spencer said. "Why can't we just kidnap one of the members that we know of and convert him over to our side, bribe him, per se, to feed us information?"

"That's a good plan, in theory, Spencer Von Strauss," Sebastian said. "But there is only one thing wrong with it. A simple snatch and grab will be tantamount to poor intelligence. What if we kidnap a loyalist, we would immediately be found out, or acquire the services of a bad lair, who, when questioned by a member of the Enlightened Ones, will reveal what we are attempting? No, we need a better plan."

"Why not have Sebastian alter his appearance to look like Renfrew and _then_ infiltrate the group?" Spencer then suggested.

"You would wish _me_ to infiltrate the Enlightened Ones as a ten year old boy?" Sebastian almost laughed. "Perish the thought. Despite my demon abilities, I can not achieve _miracles_, my dear fellow. I will be immediately suspected of being an infiltrator. I am well too educated to speak like a child or act like one."

Renfrew frowned, but he couldn't argue that fact. Yes, Sebastian wouldn't be able act like a child even if deemed. He _was_ well too educated. Children and adults were too different. One way he could describe it was an civil person can _act_ like a beast, but a beast _can't _act like a civil person. Meaning, a child has a way about themselves that makes them "childish", but adults are more controlled with their actions.

"It is quite known that these special cults have Call Signs or other phrases to allow entry," Sebastian further said. "If we don't know even _this_, then we are dead in the water to start with."

"So I can act as both," Renfrew said resolutely, "and once I have enough information, I can contact you all."

"And only _then_, would our plan begin to bear fruit," Sebastian said.

"I can fully understand why you would want this guy, cousin Ciel, cousin Lukas," Renfrew said, "and I am willing to take the risk, for everything you have done for _me_. I will do it. I am a Phantomhive, after all."

Ciel smiled. "And so you should be proud of your lineage. We are three now, whereas it began with only me. In a sense, we are building our own _army_ to attack with myself, Lukas and yourself."

Suddenly the cat jumped into Renfrew's lap. Renfrew petted the creature. "And Vincent," he said.

Ciel signed. "Yes, and Vincent," he said.

Sebastian turned to Thann. "Sir, you were closest to Wilhelm Lazarus before he died. What can you tell us about any quirks or characterizations young Johnny Lazarus may have had in the hope Lord Renfrew can practice them before we undertake our plan?"

"Neither I nor Spencer knew the boy all that well," Thann explained. "But I did see him more than Spencer."

"I only met him once or twice," Spencer said. "But at the time, I was caught up in my own selfish machinations and protesting against the Illuminati, that I didn't take notice of him when Lazarus brought him to the Illuminati headquarters."

"Johnny Lazarus died at age ten in the amphitheatre where I was to die at the hands of Bryon Kelvin and the Inner Circle, who planned to sacrifice me to a demon deity," Ciel began, "because it was announced by his father. Wilhelm Lazarus then took Johnny's body, and with surgeon skill, effectively sowed Johnny back together again, and then mummified the boy's body to preserve it. Decco, covenanted with Wilhelm, resurrected the boy, effectively putting Johnny _whole_ again with no scars. It appeared to all that nothing had happened, that the boy had been mistakenly miscounted as dead. But he did in fact _die_, and Johnny's body was possessed Decco's power, his soul already making the spiritual transition to the other world."

"Then I took host of it," Renfrew said, "with help from Sebastian's friend Altima."

"We five _humans _are the only one's who know the whole story of those events," Ciel said. "Apart from Sebastian's sons: Braydon and Brandon, Altima, the newly appointed First Prime of _Reaperdum_, and a few Reapers. But they will not reveal this information."

Thann wiped his brow. "It still amazes me of this _Reaperdum_ realm, and all these _ghostly_ creatures known as Reapers. When I encountered Ronald Knox, a Reaper, I was aghast that there was such a thing that existed. But now with all I know, I am still someone awestruck by it all."

Spencer nodded. "I am too, brother," he said. "It is exciting, notwithstanding."

"We have learned Johnny Lazarus is lactose intolerant," Sebastian continued with the previous topic at hand. "His body can not handle diary well, passing an odorous gas."

Lukas put a hand to his mouth and snickered.

Renfrew's face flushed red with embarrassment. "It's not my fault," he muttered under his breath. "And besides, the act of _fluctuation_ is a perfectly natural thing."

"Not at the rate you were exuding it, Master Renfrew," Sebastian said. "I needed to order sensed candles by the dozens. When we eventually learned it was diary that was causing it, we eliminated the problem. You are no longer allowed to have _any_ diary products such as milk or cheese or of the sort. I only allow by-products such as sow milk and the like."

Again Lukas snickered.

"It is not funny!" Renfrew said, and Vincent hissed.

Lukas flinched away, sitting right next to Renfrew. Vincent didn't have a mean streak as he knew it, but Vincent was very protective of Renfrew.

"Don't worry, Renfrew," Spencer said, sitting on a couch next to Thann across from them. "I've been known to 'drop a rose' every once in a while."

"Another thing to note," Thann said, signing, putting an end to the childish fart conversion, and continuing with the previous topic, "Johnny loved his father _very_ much, and Wilhelm loved Johnny. The boy was also a little shy, now that I recall."

"From what Sebastian tells me, and from what can recall from retrieved memories, so were you, brother," Lukas said to Ciel. "Very shy. You would hide behind father when strangers were around."

"A wicked change from now, Lukas," Ciel said defensively.

Sebastian smirked. "You are quite a confident and outspoken person now, my lord," he said.

Ciel eyed him. "Quite. Things change, especially when circumstances demand it."

"Indeed. Now, how to find these _Enlightened Ones_," Sebastian said.

"We are know of one person who may be able help," Ciel said. "A man who knows next to _everything_."

"You don't mean…" Sebastian's sentence trailed off, as Ciel confirmed with a nod. "Very well, my lord. I shall summon him at once."

_**To be continued…**_


	9. Into An Agreement

_**CHAPTER 8 "INTO AN AGREEMENT"**_

"Indeed, my young lord," Salem, also known as the Undertaker, said to Ciel, as he addressed the company in his darkened parlor in town. Thann and Spencer had gone their separate way after the meeting at the Phantomhive mansion, while Ciel, Lukas, Renfrew and Sebastian visited the Undertaker. The trip to the shop took less than an hour by horse and carriage. "I indeed know a great many things. But what you ask is difficult as it will conflict with Reaper policy."

Salem, was known as the Undertaker in the human world, but in _Reapderdum_ he was so much more, including Record Keeper. Being Undertaker here was a secondary interest. And he played the part well, looking very much like his "clients", half-dead, with a giant scar down his face, as if patched together like some Frankenstein monster. But it suited his cover well.

"These _people_ you wish to know about are elusive and are well versed in keeping secrets," he continued.

"Then look into your crystal ball or _something_ and tell us," Ciel demanded.

Salem laughed. "Such dry humor, my lord. We Reapers don't have crystal balls, but we do have methods to see the on-goings of humans. More so does William, the head of Reaper Affairs. He has what he calls the 'Looking Glass', a round sphere in _Reaperdum_ where he can look down an see everything about."

"The pompous one," Ciel said bluntly.

Salem laughed again. "Indeed, and how true. William is a bit of a stickler in the mud. And has less of a sense of humor than you do, my lord."

Lukas and Renfrew chuckled. Ciel eyed them. But they continued to snicker like children.

Ciel frowned. "I know you Reapers have ways of _seeing_ the lives of others," he said.

"We do."

"Then do it!"

"And my payment…"

Ciel sighed deeply. "If we must. Sebastian, you do the honors."

"No, my lord. I wish _you_ to tell me a joke, as this appears to be so important to you. You must stop depending on others and do things for yourself, for the reward it harbors is greater."

Ciel scowled at Lukas. Lukas shrugged. "I said nothing to him about you needing self-reliance, brother. I know how important finding Bryon Kelvin is and I would never evoke such a thing at such a critical time."

"We all learn lessons," Salem said. "And the greater the risk, the greater the reward."

"How is telling a joke taking a risk?" Ciel turned back to him.

"It is the risk of failure that haunt most people, my dear lord Phantomhive," Salem went on. "So a person within his means often orders others do things for him, hence if _they_ fail they know what _not_ to do, acquiring knowledge. But the user obtains nothing. I believe one must stand on one's feet and brave the possibility of failure to learn for themselves the lesson attributed and respect what true reward is."

"And since you are one not _able _to tell a joke, Master Ciel," Sebastian said. "I understand."

"You understand _what_ exactly, Sebastian? The fact _isn't_ that I can't tell a joke, the fact _is_ I don't _know_ any jokes to tell. How can a person properly relate a humorous anecdote if none has been heard?"

"Come, come, my lord. Surely you have heard at least one joke? Like why did the chicken cross the cobblestones?"

Ciel thought for a moment. "Now why would a chicken cross the cobblestones? Chickens live no where need urban areas. They live in their own filth in the country on farms, and if a chicken did cross _the cobblestones_, it would get run over in his attempt to get to the other side."

"You are thinking too literal, my lord. That is in fact the joke." Sebastian shook his head. "The punch line is: to get to the other side of the road. I will admit, it is not a funny joke."

"Yes, Sebastian. It is _not_ a joke at all."

Ciel's left eye unfocused for a moment as if remembering something. And quickly he _did_ remember a joke - one that someone, an American guest, at one of his father's parties told. It was crass, and he remembered his father chastising the drunkard man in open company because it was spoken within Ciel's earshot. He was five at the time. The joke itself was rude and rudimental and he didn't understand it until later in life. But it was the only one he could conjure up now in his mind.

It vexed him to tell a joke to get the information he needed, but there was no choice. "Very well, if I must…then here it is." He cleared his throat. "There once was a man from Nantucket - "

Suddenly the Undertaker fell over laughing hysterically. "Oh my lord! I can't believe…you would tell…_that…_of all jokes…" He rolled on his side in laughter, as if Ciel had just told the funniest joke in the world.

"What joke?" Lukas asked. "He never got started."

"My lord, that is…" Sebastian's eyes went wide in shock. "That joke is inappropriate, especially for the ears of children. Where on earth did you learn that _joke_?"

"Am I missing something?" Renfrew said. "What joke?"

"I'd rather not repeat it," Sebastian said. "And forget _you_ ever heard it."

"Hear what?" Lukas said frustrated. "I want to heard the joke!" he demanded.

Ciel smiled amusingly. "Very well," he said.

"My lord, no…" Sebastian protested.

But Ciel recited it anyway:

_"There once was a man from Nantucket,_

_Who kept all his coins in a bucket._

_But his daughter, her name was Nan,_

_Ran away with a man;_

_And as for the bucket…"_

Sebastian gasped.

_"Nantucket!"_

Sebastian sighed relief.

"You really thought I would say it, Sebastian?" Ciel revealed a small smirk.

"For a moment, my lord, I did. I am pleased you restrained yourself."

Salem got to his feet, but continued to chuckle.

Lukas's eyes blinked confused. "That was a horrible joke, brother, and not funny at all," he said.

Renny folded his arms across his chest. "I agree. How can a person in his right mind laugh at that?" he said. He looked at Salem. "Well, I suppose, from what you've been telling me of _him_."

Salem chuckled.

"So you already knew the joke, Salem? And laughed at it anyway?" Lukas narrowed his eyes. "I am still missing the humor in it."

Ciel leaned in and whispered something in Lukas's ear. Lukas's eyes widened. He began to snicker. "Oh my," he said. "Now that's funny! All it takes is the replacement of a letter of a word to bring out the humor in it."

"Please tell me," Renfrew insisted. "Or _I will_ act like a ten year old and scream."

Lukas leaned in a whispered it to Renfrew, despite Sebastian's protest.

The punch line, and the replacement of the last word, was so undignified to say openly.

It made Renfrew raise his brow, but then snicker. Appearance-wise, he was a kid. Mentally, he had heard so many different jokes over the years that the use of such a _word_, a play on the word bucket to replace the very last word in the joke, more so the first letter of it to "F" , didn't bother him. In otherwise, the man in the joke cared more about his coins than his daughter because she was harlot. He wanted his money back!

And now the joke made more sense to everyone.

"Now Undertaker, tell us what we want to know," Ciel demanded. "You have heard my joke."

"So forceful, my lord," Salem replied. "I am more than aware of your history, Ciel Phantomhive. I am aware of _all_ your histories, in fact. And I believe this information will be of great use to you. However, there are certain _conditions_ in order to gain this information."

"Conditions? What conditions? Just tell us what you know of the _Enlightened Ones_!"

"The Enlightened Ones are very strict and do not like outsiders."

Ciel sighed. "You are tiring my patience, Undertaker," he said angrily. "How do we get in?"

Suddenly the back door to the Undertaker's shop opened and a familiar person dressed in a black suit walked into the main parlor. He was tall, thin, and had thick, two-tone hair of blonde and black hair. He also wore spectacles, standard for all Reapers.

"Reaper Ronald Knox?" Sebastian said. "Why are you here?"

"At your service," the jovial Knox replied. "Well, essentially, at _your service_, young Renfrew Phantomhive. The condition Salem was referring to was _me - _that I am the one who raised you after a serious bout of amnesia after you escaped the slaughter that befall the other children by the Child Kidnapper of London, who wished them all killed because he did not want to be identified, while Wilhelm pined over some other boy's corpse. This will be your cover story."

"My…_cover story_?" Renfrew asked. "How can you help me get into the Enlightened Ones?"

"I am already in, and have been for a while. I am a quiet member of the Enlightened Ones, an infiltrator for the _Reaperdum_, if you will. I was ordered to infiltrate the cult for Altima. The members here know my face and I am trusted within their ranks. We suspect a Fallen Reaper is hiding in their midst and I was sent in to sniff him out. A Reaper X team member would bring about too much attention; Altima wanted a subtle approach and a person who could interact with people on _human level_. So he asked me. Therefore, in order for you to be trusted with _me_, we must first create this clever cover story of your 'resurrection', and that will mean reuniting Johnny Lazarus with his mother. But it will only be a temporary venue."

Ronald Knox and Sebastian momentarily met gazes, and Sebastian had a sneaking suspicion of a lie spoken by Knox. While Knox was a smart Reaper, there was something within his words that told Sebastian he wasn't telling them the whole truth about his mission. He would have to ask later.

"_We _have already talked about a similar plan, and think it is worth a try," Renfrew said. "We hadn't thought of a cover story, however. Quite clever."

"But we must be quick to establish your identity, young Renfrew, for she only has a short time left."

"Whom?" Sebastian asked. "Helen Lazarus?"

Knox nodded. "She will die in two days from a sudden heart attack," he said. "It is unavoidable."

_**To be continued…**_


End file.
